


Can I Lean on You?

by eringiles



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Graphic Description, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eringiles/pseuds/eringiles
Summary: When the Doctor asked him later, he couldn’t explain how it had happened exactly. One minute he’d been coming back down from the ridge where he’d proposed to David, having taken a moment to soak in the view from one of his most favourite places in the world, and the next he’d been lying in the middle of the trail consumed by pain.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 60
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an extremely self-indulgent story, as I very much wish I’d had a David when I did this a few weeks ago. Let Patrick and myself be a cautionary tale of why you should never go hiking alone.

When the Doctor asked him later, he couldn’t explain how it had happened exactly. One minute he’d been coming back down from the ridge where he’d proposed to David, having taken a moment to soak in the view from one of his most favourite places in the world, and the next he’d been lying in the middle of the trail consumed by pain.

Patrick could do nothing but lie there and breathe, and even that was proving difficult. His hand clutched at his left knee, as if by sheer willpower he could fix this. He could feel that his kneecap wasn’t where it was supposed to be and that sent the rational part of his brain reeling with the possibilities of how he was going to make it out of this without David calling out mountain rescue in a fit of panic. The muscles in his leg twitched in protest and he felt his kneecap sliding back into place beneath his fingers. It didn’t hurt any less, but at least parts of his body were back where they were supposed to be, which was a step away from a panicked David and mountain rescue, so Patrick saw that as a positive.

He continued to lie in the middle of the trail, still clutching at his knee and trying to get his breathing back under control. He didn’t know how long he lay there, but slowly there started to be more than just the all-consuming pain. As he came back to himself he realised he’d broken out in a cold sweat, his t-shirt and hoodie sticking to him unpleasantly. He could feel his backpack partially underneath him where he was lying on his side, a rock sticking into the side of his ribs and his face inches from some sort of plant. He spent several long moments trying to identify the plant, if only to distract himself from the pain.

He eventually managed to pull himself into a sitting position without moving his legs. He took a moment to wrestle his backpack from his back, trying not to move too much, terrified that it would send renewed spasms of pain through him. He pulled his water from the backpack and sipped at it, registering the fact his hands were shaking. He took a deep unsteady breath and let the air stutter out through his dry lips. He had some lip balm in his pack from the store, but dry lips were honestly the least of his worries at the moment.

He took another sip of water before he could bring himself to look at his knee. He rolled up his pant leg slowly and found that his knee was already twice the size it should be. _Shit._

He wanted to cry. He also wanted David. At least if David were here he wouldn’t have to try and make it back down the trail alone and then drive himself either home or to the hospital. He was unsure which he wanted more at the moment – David or trained professionals who could fix this. A doctor seemed like the sensible choice, especially since his husband injuring himself was probably likely to send David off on one. Patrick realised he wasn’t being fair, because for all David was full of drama and hysterics at the best of times, David had proven himself to be calm and collected in the face of Patrick being the hysterical one – their last hike together on this trail had proved that to him.

He pulled his phone out his pocket, a candid picture of he and David on their wedding day lighting up the screen, but he already knew there was no signal on this trail. He’d hiked it enough times to know that there was no signal until you got back down nearer to the road.

He drank some more water and continued to sit in the middle of the trail, only now starting to realise how lucky he had been. He could see the steep sides of the trail to his right. Had his other knee given way he could have gone over and be more injured than he already was. Although from where he was currently sat, he didn’t feel particularly lucky. Now the pain of his knee wasn’t quite so intense he could feel his ribs vying for his attention. He pulled his t-shirt up and looked down to find his side red where it had clearly collided with the very solid ground. He pressed experimentally at his side, but there was only a dull ache there. He resisted the urge to do the same with his knee, scared that he would accidentally dislocate it again if he pressed too hard.

He looked at his watch and tried to gauge how long he’d been sat in the middle of the trail. He guessed about fifteen minutes. He’d said to David he would be back at half six for dinner, which if he’d currently had two good legs he would have made just in time, even with his 15-minute rest. Now as it was, he didn’t know how long it was going to take him to get back down the side of the hill. He didn’t even know if he could stand up yet.

_One thing at a time, Brewer._

He took a deep breath, setting aside his rucksack and water before turning over carefully so he had his good knee beneath him, his other leg out, hovering cautiously off the ground. He used his hands and good leg to hop up onto his right foot and reached out to lean his weight against a nearby tree. He slowly started to put weight on his leg and when it didn’t give way immediately he tentatively tried a few halting steps that were more of a shuffle limp between his tree and a boulder at the other side of the trail. It hurt, but he felt like he could make it far enough back down the trail to get phone signal again. He didn’t have much choice at that moment, apart from that or wait for his husband to call in the emergency services. At least he’d told David which trail he was walking and what time he’d estimated he’d be back.

After a couple more experimental limping shuffles back and forth he retrieved his rucksack and started the laborious climb back down the hill. Every step he took he felt like his knee was going to give way, and the pace that he set was akin to lost tourists shambling through a city. He spotted a sturdy branch that he fashioned into a walking stick, which gave him more confidence for a bit until it snapped when he leant on it too heavily.

He had to stop twice on the way back down the trail, and both times he struggled to start again. There was one point where he had to get down on his ass and shuffle down a steeper bit, scared that if he planted his left leg down with any force it would give way and he’d be back to square one again. By the time he got back to the car the sun was starting to dip low in the sky, and he just wanted to drive home and crawl into bed. He felt shaky with exhaustion and lingering adrenaline. He wanted painkillers and an ice pack and David.

He realised very quickly though that driving wasn’t going to be an option. Changing gear was very much beyond his left leg’s expertise at that moment in time, and he cursed the fact he didn’t have an automatic.

He opened the car and sunk down onto the ledge of the trunk, his good leg planted and his bad one resting precariously as he fished around in his pocket for his cell phone. Now he had signal he could see he had two texts from David. The first one said:

_I’m picking up pizza on my way home. Hope your hike was good. Love you. x_

The second one, sent about 15 minutes ago was slightly more panicky, which was to be expected.

_Where are you!? Your half of the pizza is cold._

Before Patrick could hit dial his phone was ringing, a picture of his husband’s face smiling up at him.

‘David?’

‘Where are you? You said you’d be home an hour ago!’

‘I-‘ Patrick paused. He didn’t want to panic David, but he also very much needed David to come get him.

‘Patrick?’

‘I need you to come get me. I can’t- I can’t drive. I hurt my knee on the trail.’

There was a pause where Patrick could imagine his husband taking a breath, looking up at the ceiling and imagining the worst-case scenario. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Really hurts,’ Patrick admitted, huffing out a laugh, that sounded more like a choked sob.

‘Okay, where are you?’

‘I made it back to the car, but I can’t drive.’

‘Yeah, you said that. You um- you didn’t hit your head too, did you?’

‘No.’ Patrick’s voice sounded small and scared now, even to his own ears.

‘Mmm-hmmm. Okay, stay put. I’ll get Stevie to drive me out there.’ There was a pause where Patrick could hear the sound of David grabbing his keys. ‘I’ll be there soon. Just um- Just don’t damage yourself anymore, okay? Love you.’

‘Love you too,’ Patrick whispered back before the call disconnected.

Patrick was fairly certain that he hadn’t managed to present the voice of reassurance on the phone to David, and he was worried that David was now panicking more than he needed to. There was nothing Patrick could do about that at the moment, because he was still very much on the edge of panic himself, despite the assurance that his husband was on his way to come get him.

Patrick managed to hobble round the side of the car and pulled himself into the backseat, shuffling backwards and dragging his legs in behind him. He realised he now couldn’t reach back to close the car door, but he didn’t care. Twilight was still far enough away, and he knew it wouldn’t take long for David and Stevie to get there. He tried to find a comfortable position to rest his leg, but it hurt to straighten it, and he didn’t have the strength to hold it slightly bent and raised. He managed to pull his hoodie off, balling it up and sticking it under his knee as a makeshift pillow. He rested his head against the back seat, and closed his eyes, waiting for David to come and get him.

He heard the car pull up not twenty minutes later and the sound of doors opening and closing.

‘Patrick?’

Patrick felt a hand against his ankle and opened his eyes to find David staring in the car at him.

‘Hey.’ Patrick’s voice broke, and he wanted to cry with relief.

‘You okay? What happened?’

‘Funny story,’ Patrick tried to laugh in a self-decrepitating way, but he was still shaking from the shock so it came out like a manic giggle. He could see Stevie behind David’s left shoulder, trying to peer in at him through the open car door. ‘I may have dislocated my knee.’

‘You _may_ have dislocated your knee?’ David’s voice was several octaves higher.

‘Okay, I’m fairly sure I did, because kneecaps are very much not supposed to be round the side of your knee.’

He watched as David took a deep breath, and looked up to the sky. When he spoke again, his voice was surprisingly calm. ‘Is it still dislocated?’

‘No, I don’t think so, but I think we should probably go get it checked out.’

‘You think?!’ David’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. Patrick had the good grace to look sheepish. David took another breath and looked down at Patrick, his hand pressed against Patrick’s ankle.

‘Okay, let’s you and I take a nice car ride to Elmdale Emergency Room.’ Patrick could hear the uncertainty and panic creeping into David’s voice as he spoke. ‘You want to stay in the back of the car?’

Patrick nodded in response. He didn’t see the point of trying to get out of the car and back into the passenger seat, it would only hurt and worry David more than he needed to before he drove them to the emergency room.

‘Hmm. Okay.’ David’s lips pursed together as he regarded his husband and Patrick heard the trunk close as David pulled his head back out the car. Stevie ducked into the car a moment later to hand Patrick the folded-up blanket from his trunk.

‘Use this for your knee and then you can put your hoodie back on,’ Stevie urged, helping to rearrange the blanket and hoodie, which Patrick struggled to get on.

‘Lean forward a minute,’ Stevie instructed, half in the car with Patrick now as she tried to help him on with his hoodie. Patrick jumped slightly when he felt the car door open behind him and David pulled the seatbelt round, leaning over Patrick to click it into place.

‘Don’t want you damaging yourself more,’ David commented. As he pulled back he paused long enough for Patrick to see the worried look on his husband’s face. David kissed Patrick on the forehead, a hand cupping his cheek before he was gone and the door was shut again. When Patrick looked back round Stevie was also pulling herself back out of the car, making sure that Patrick’s feet were all the way in the car before shutting the door behind her.

Patrick watched through the window as David and Stevie exchanged a few words. Patrick caught the words ‘hospital’ and ‘call me’ before Stevie pressed a hand to David’s arm, bending down to wave in through the window at Patrick. He gave her a half-hearted wave and smile in return as David got into the driver’s seat.

‘Okay, time for you and I to take a road trip.’ David said, falsely cheery as he faffed with the seat for a moment, trying to give his longer legs more room, arms flapping more than was necessary before he started the car and headed out onto the highway for Elmdale.

* * *

They limped into the ER together and over to the front desk, Patrick using David as a crutch. Getting back out of the car after the drive had been painful, straightening his knee to try and put weight on it even more so. He’d stayed leant against the car for a moment, before David, without any words had put an arm around his waist on the side of his bad knee and started making his way towards the front doors, letting Patrick set the pace.

David filled in the forms while Patrick tried to comfortably perch on a seat, alternating angles before he finally gave in and took David’s offer of resting his leg across David’s lap. It still wasn’t hugely comfortable, but he took some solace in David’s hand against his thigh, holding his leg in place.

He spent the next hour or so fidgeting painfully in the waiting room seat, while David made comments about people in the waiting room in an effort to distract Patrick, and no doubt himself, from the predicament they found themselves in. Patrick didn’t particularly feel up to conversation, so he let David’s idle chat wash over him.  
  
‘Patrick Brewer.’

‘That’s us,’ David said, raising his arm as he stood up before turning back to pull Patrick to his feet. They limped after the doctor and into a curtained cubicle.

‘Grab a seat on the bed for me, Patrick. My name’s Lizzie, I’m one of the doctors here.’ She watched David as he helped Patrick onto the bed, lifting his legs up before taking a step back.

‘Oh, I’m David. I’m his husband.’

‘Nice to meet you, David.’ She smiled at him, before turning back to Patrick. ‘So, Patrick, tell me what happened.’

Patrick could see David looking around, trying to find somewhere to put himself, before settling on sitting down in the corner of the cubicle. Patrick cleared his throat as he sat uncomfortably on the bed, knee slightly bent as he tried not to curl in on himself. ‘I was out hiking, coming back down a hill, and I don’t know, I just put my foot down and my knee went one way and I went the other. My ribs are a bit sore from where I landed as well.’

‘Was it your whole knee, or-?’

‘I could feel my kneecap had shifted round to the side.’ Patrick demonstrated by gingerly pointing to the side of his left knee.

‘And then did you straighten your leg and it went back in?’

Patrick nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess. I had to lie on the trail for a while before I could move though.’

‘I’ll bet,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Where would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain you’ve ever experienced?’

Patrick thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t usually the dramatic one in the relationship, but it had fucking hurt and he knew he shouldn’t underplay it. He was also fairly certain he had screamed when he went down. ‘I would say when I did it at the time it was a ten, but I don’t know, probably a seven now.’ Patrick gave a half shrug like he wasn’t quite sure about his answer and looked towards David whose brow was furrowed in sympathy.

The Doctor nodded as she started to put on a pair of gloves.

‘The hike back to the car wasn’t much fun,’ Patrick joked, letting out an uncomfortable laugh to try and fill the silence and wipe the look of concern off David’s face. It didn’t seem to work, so he turned his attention back to the Doctor who was now indicating his leg.

‘Are you okay if I have a look?’

Patrick nodded and the Doctor rolled his pant leg up to look at his swollen knee. Patrick’s eyes flashed to David momentarily as he let out a little hiss of sympathy.

‘How far would you say the hike back to your car was?’

Patrick sucked air in through his teeth as the doctor manipulated his leg to check his range of motion before pressing round his patella.

‘Sorry,’ the Doctor apologised.

Patrick shook his head, as if to say don’t worry about it before answering. ‘Um, about 5 kilometres.’

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Was your husband with you? Or anyone else?’

Patrick didn’t trust his voice so he shook his head, biting his lip. The Doctor looked at David who was sat in the corner of the room, staring at Patrick worriedly.

‘And your ribs, how would you rate them in terms of pain on a scale of one to ten?’ she asked as she moved to lift the hem of Patrick’s t-shirt up and he was forced to lie back on the bed slightly.

‘Um, maybe a 3?’ He said, glancing down at where she was pressing against his side. It felt uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a patch on his knee. She nodded, taking the stethoscope from round her neck and placing it on his back.

‘Take a deep breath for me.’

Patrick did as instructed.

‘And again.’ Patrick took another deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a fraction of his tension leave with it. The Doctor nodded as she placed her stethoscope back round her neck.

‘Okay, I think we need to get an x-ray of that knee and see what’s going on. Make sure that the patella is back where it’s supposed to be and then we’ll go from there. I’m not too concerned about your ribs. I can’t feel any breaks, and you’re breathing fine, so I’m fairly sure you’ve just bruised them, but we’ll get an x-ray of them too, just to be sure.’ The Doctor stripped her gloves off, gave a smile and disappeared out of the cubicle, leaving the curtain open.

David stood up almost instantly and crossed to the bed, pulling Patrick into a sideways hug. His hands held Patrick’s head to his chest as he pressed a kiss into his hair. Patrick’s arms circled round David’s waist, holding on.

‘I can’t fucking believe you did that.’

‘It really wasn’t fun,’ Patrick said, his voice cracking as he leant into David.

David hummed in response and held Patrick a little bit tighter, his left hand running up and down Patrick’s back in a soothing motion.

‘I’m sorry.’ Patrick voice was muffled slightly against David’s chest.

‘What are you sorry for?!’ David sounded confused.

‘I know this is probably not how you wanted to spend a Tuesday evening.’

David pulled back to he was looking at Patrick, hands on Patrick’s shoulders. ‘I’d rather that than be worried that my husband is being eaten by a bear because he hasn’t come back from a hike down memory lane.’

Patrick gave a half smile, lips pressed together in a look of self-consciousness.

The doctor returned with a wheelchair five minutes later and David helped Patrick into it before taking charge and following the directions to x-ray.

Patrick wriggled painfully in the wheelchair while they waited in the x-ray waiting room, David sat in front of him in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair.

‘You okay?’

‘Just can’t get comfy,’ Patrick confessed, lifting his bad leg with both hands. David leant forward and tried to fiddle with the footplate on the wheelchair.

‘How does this even work?’ David asked in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air.

‘I think you pull the lever here,’ Patrick said, trying to lean over the side of the wheelchair to see and regretting it when his ribs protested. David flapped at him until he sat still and started pulling at handles to try and move the footplate again.

‘Do you need an engineering degree to work this?’

Patrick smiled as he watched David work, eventually figuring it out enough to move the footplate to a vaguely comfortable position for Patrick to be able to rest his leg. Patrick rubbed at his side as David sat down in the chair opposite again. He felt David’s hand wrapping around his own where it was resting in his lap and giving it a squeeze. Patrick’s eyes moved from their hands up to David’s face and the open look of worry on it.

‘Hey, I’ll be fine.’ Patrick tried to reassure.

‘Um, I’m fairly certain I’m supposed to be the one being supportive and comforting right now, not you.’

‘We can take turns,’ Patrick said, smiling tiredly at David.

‘Well I think you’re doing admirably. If this was me I’d be a crying mess by now.’

‘Oh, we’ve come close a couple of times,’ Patrick joked. Expect he wasn’t joking, and by the look on David’s face he knew it. He felt David squeezing his hand again before he leant forward in his chair to give Patrick a chaste kiss.

‘Patrick Brewer.’

X-ray was torture. David had to wait outside and the radiographer asked Patrick to try and straighten his knee as much as possible. Patrick didn’t feel like his version of straight was good enough. That thought almost made him laugh, and he filed it away for future storytelling when people asked him about his experience. Stevie would appreciate it.

Afterwards, David wheeled him back to the first waiting room and went to tell the receptionist that Patrick had been for his X-Ray.

‘Patrick Brewer.’

Patrick was fed up of hearing his name being called.

‘Okay, Patrick. We’ve had a look at your x-rays and the good news is that your ribs are fine, just badly bruised, so I’m not too worried about them. They’ll be sore for the next week or so, but you can look after them yourself with some rest and ice. However, you can probably see that your patella isn’t quite aligned, it’s still slightly to the left, so you definitely displaced it.’

Patrick almost had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying the words _No shit!_ Instead he just raised his eyebrows and gave David a surreptitious glance, before looking back at his x-ray on the screen.

‘We’ll get you a splint to keep your leg straight, because your knee is unstable at the moment. We’ll also get you some crutches so you can get about. Have you taken any painkillers?’

Patrick shook his head. He was pretty sure if David’s eyebrows got any higher on his face they were going to disappear into his hairline.

‘I’ll get you some ibuprofen, and you can then just take over the counter anti-inflammatories to help with the pain.’

Patrick nodded, his mind already jumping ahead ten steps in his recovery. ‘How long will I be on crutches?’

‘I’ll refer you to a specialist in orthopaedics and they’ll get you an appointment in the few days. They’ll be able to give you a better idea of what your recovery time will be.’ She paused, letting that sink in a moment. ‘A lot of it will depend on what damage you’ve done to the rest of your knee, because your patella moving will have dragged everything in the structure of your knee with it. In the meantime, you need to make sure you rest it, keep it elevated and put an ice pack on it for twenty minutes at a time. Lots of Netflix for the next week at least, okay.’

Patrick nodded solemnly, but he was already thinking about who was going to help David on Thursday picking up a new shipment from Heather, and who was going to play in his place at baseball that weekend, and how they were going to go to his parents next week, and-

‘Okay, let’s get you in a cricket splint and get you some crutches so you can stop using your poor husband as one.’ The Doctor smiled at David and Patrick watched as David tried to return the smile that was filled with a noticeable amount of wobbly relief that they were finally escaping the hospital and going home. Patrick didn’t feel relieved, he felt anxious that he was essentially going to be useless for the foreseeable future, something that he wasn’t very good at. The Doctor ducked back out of the cubicle.

‘Sorry, I think you’ll be looking after the shop on your own for the rest of the week,’ Patrick said, somewhat morosely.

‘I hate to burst your little bubble of optimism, but I think it might be slightly longer than a week.’ David commented as he moved back to Patrick’s side, a hand going to his shoulder. Patrick wanted to argue, but he knew that David was probably right.

‘I was going to cook us lasagne on Friday,’ Patrick bemoaned, putting his head in his hands in defeat.

‘Also not happening, because I’m not attempting that without help, and you will not be helping,’ David said, interrupting Patrick by pressing a kiss to his lips. ‘Anything else you were thinking about doing anytime soon, I think it’s safe to say we can press pause on for the minute.’

Patrick frowned, leaning into David. ‘Lie in on Sunday?’

David smiled. ‘I’m gonna go ahead and press play on that one.’

‘Hmm, I thought you might.’

‘If you behave yourself, I’ll even bring you breakfast in bed.’ David rubbed Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick smiled and tilted his head sideways so it was leaning against David’s shoulder.

A nurse appeared round the curtain with a black piece of fabric that appeared to be mostly Velcro and metal rods. If Patrick didn’t know better, he would have said it was some sort of torture device.

‘Hello Patrick, I’m Claire. Let’s get this fitted onto you and then we’ll get you some crutches so you can make your great escape.’

Patrick watched as she pulled the splint to pieces, inserting metal poles and threading Velcro straps together before she placed it flat on the bed beside his bad knee.

‘If you lift your leg for me.’

Patrick did as he was told, using both hands to help. He could feel his leg shaking in his grip. The nurse slid the splint under his leg and he lowered it back down.

‘Lie back for me, try and relax and straighten your knee as much as you can.’ It was a painful process as Patrick tried to straighten his knee. It felt like he was trying to mould half-baked clay, and the knee itself felt like it was full of water. He tried to ground himself with the feeling of David’s hand on his shoulder, but the minute he started trying to move his knee again, David’s touch faded into the background and all he could think about was how much his knee hurt.

As the nurse started strapping bits of Velcro together she started giving instructions that Patrick hoped David was listening to, because Patrick was starting to feel foggy headed from pain and exhaustion. ‘Take it off while you’re in bed and showering, but otherwise you should wear it at all times. If your calf starts to hurt at any point, come back to us straight away, okay?’

Painkillers were dispensed then while the nurse disappeared to get a set of crutches for Patrick.

‘Just take your time. It goes crutches, bad leg, good leg, okay?’ Patrick watched as she demonstrated with the crutches before coming back to him where he was still perched on the bed, David hovering beside him. ‘When you sit down as well, make sure you take your arms out of the crutches first otherwise you’ll injure your shoulders.’

Patrick nodded. He struggled to his feet, still reluctant to put any weight on his sore leg, so he was almost leaning against David as he slotted his arms into the crutches.

‘Just take as small steps as you need,’ the nurse said and moved in front of him. ‘Crutches, bad leg, good leg.’

Patrick was fairly certain that despite her sunny demeanour, this woman had clearly been a drill sergeant in the army at some point in a previous life. He followed her instructions, taking frustratingly small steps down the ER corridor. His knee felt like it was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but he no longer felt like it was going to give out beneath him any moment.

‘No using the crutches on stairs. If you need to go up and down stairs it’s on your ass, okay?’

Patrick realised he hadn’t even thought about how he was going to get up and down the stairs at home. Just the thought of shuffling up and down the stairs on his ass made him want to take a nap.

‘Check, no stairs.’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you some reinforced pants,’ David joked, coming up behind Patrick, placing a hand at the small of his back and kissing him on the cheek. The nurse seemed to thaw slightly at David’s joking and cracked a smile.

‘Do you want to use the wheelchair to get back to your car?’

Patrick was fading fast. The adrenaline had worn off a couple of hours ago, but he didn’t want to be any more of a bother than he already had been. He could feel David looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but he was too scared to take his eyes off his feet as he balanced precariously in the middle of the Emergency Room on his newly acquired crutches.

‘That would be great, thank you,’ David said, before Patrick had a chance to refuse.

Patrick let out a long breath as he lowered himself back into the wheelchair, trying to prop his crutches on the footplate.

‘Why don’t you go grab the car and pull it up as close as you can and I’ll keep Patrick here company?’ Patrick heard the nurse – Claire – suggest, as he was trying to get comfortable.

‘Oh. Yeah, that would be – yeah, thanks.’ David seemed unsure about leaving Patrick in the clutches of strange medical professionals for a moment, but he had the car keys in his left hand, his right gripping Patrick’s shoulder and bending to kiss him on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you out front.’

Patrick watched David walking away down the corridor and disappearing around the corner to collect the car. Patrick tried to stifle a yawn as he felt Claire take the breaks off the wheelchair.

‘Ready to go?’

Patrick nodded. ‘Yes. Thanks.’

‘You two run Rose Apothecary in Schitts Creek, right?’ Claire asked, as she parked him by the entrance to the ER and they waited for David.

‘Yeah, we do.’

‘I thought I recognised you. I love your shop. Always bulk buy hand lotion when I’m passing by. All the hand sanitiser dries out my hands and your cream works wonders.’

‘I’m glad you like it.’ Patrick made a note that next time this woman was in the shop he was going to slip an extra pot of hand cream into her purchases. He noticed David was pulling up into the drop-off zone. ‘Hopefully I’ll be back in work next time you drop by.’

She hummed under her breath as she steered the wheelchair towards the car as David opened the passenger side door. David slid the car seat back as far as it would go before Patrick did an awkward shuffle dance between the chair and the car. It was difficult trying to get his leg in without being able to bend it, but he managed with a lot of huffing and holding of his breath. By the time he was settled, David had loaded his crutches into the back of the car.

‘Take it easy for the next few days, okay, Patrick. Get your lovely husband to look after you.’ Claire was bending down to look in through the car door at Patrick, who nodded in response.

‘Thanks,’ Patrick said, smiling and ducking his head slightly as Claire closed the car door on him and with a brief word to David, disappeared back inside the hospital.

‘Home?’ David asked, once he’d got back inside the car, looking across at Patrick.

‘Home,’ Patrick agreed, trying to stifle another yawn as David turned the keys in the ignition, his hand reaching out to give Patrick’s thigh a squeeze before he put the car in gear.

Patrick stared out the front windscreen without really seeing anything as they drove back towards the house. The streetlights strobing across the windshield made him close his eyes for longer each time, but his brain wouldn’t switch off long enough to let him doze. He was still thinking about all the things he couldn’t do and trying to come up with solutions. He tried to stop himself from spiralling out and focus on thinking about how he was going to have a shower when they got in, but he wasn’t even sure how he was going to manage that small feat let alone things like helping to run their business.

He could feel David glancing over at him every now and then, but Patrick didn’t have the energy to make small talk or reassure David that he was fine in that moment, because he was starting to feel less fine by the minute. He tried to tell himself it would only be a week and then he would have a more definitive idea of when he’d be back on his feet. He could cope with a week of being lazy.

‘Sofa or bed?’ David asked as he held the front door open for Patrick to hobble through twenty minutes later.

‘Bed,’ Patrick responded tiredly, already heading for the stairs. David locked the front door behind them, depositing Patrick’s rucksack by the door before following Patrick to the foot of the stairs.

‘Remember to put that ass to work,’ David joked as Patrick started threading his arms free of the crutches. David took them from Patrick without a thought and leant them against the wall as Patrick lowered himself down onto the stairs and looked down at his shoes. The right one he knew he could get off, but he had no idea how he could reach the left one now he could no longer bend his knee. He’d barely processed that thought before David was bending down and starting to remove Patrick’s shoes from his feet. Patrick sighed and leant his head against the banister, a hand coming up to cover his eyes.

‘I know you’re going to find this hard,’ David said, intent on his task of undoing Patrick’s shoelaces. ‘But please ask if you need anything. I don’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by you falling down the stairs because you were thirsty and wanted a glass of water, okay?’

Patrick frowned, annoyed somewhat that David knew him far too well, but he didn’t say anything. Patrick watched as David pulled his left shoe off carefully, a hand squeezing at his foot in reassurance before looking up at Patrick.

‘I know you think you’re a burden, but you’re my burden, and I would happily carry you anywhere.’

Patrick let out a wet sounding laugh, and realised that he was crying. He used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe at his face ineffectually.

David pulled himself to his feet and carefully slotted himself down on the stairs next to Patrick, gathering Patrick into his arms, his head tucked under David’s chin. Patrick gripped at David’s arm as he leant into the warmth of his husband, sniffing and trying to wipe at the tears of frustration and pain that were slowly rolling down his cheeks.

They sat in silence for a while, David’s hand running up and down Patrick’s back as Patrick felt himself drifting with exhaustion, soaking in the warmth of David’s presence. For a moment, things didn’t seem quite so insurmountable with David’s arms around him.

‘Mmm, I want you to promise me something.’

‘Hmm?’ Patrick turned his head slightly so that his face was partially against David’s neck. He took the opportunity to press a kiss against the stubble that was starting to form.

‘Please don’t go hiking on your own again. Take me with you. Or someone else. I promise I won’t complain, just please don’t go hiking on your own again.’ David sounded slightly desperate.

If Patrick was honest, it wasn’t a particularly difficult promise to make. ‘You won’t complain?’

‘Hmm. Much.’

Patrick choked out a laugh. ‘Then I suppose I can promise that.’

‘Good, because you are very precious and I prefer you not broken, okay?’ David’s arms squeezed Patrick tightly again, pressing a kiss to his hair. Patrick managed a smile at that, even as a few more tears rolled down his cheeks.

‘In the interest of me not being more broken in the morning, can we maybe move this to the bedroom before I fall asleep on the stairs.’ Patrick was reluctant to move out of David’s embrace, but he was also very aware of how sore and exhausted he currently was.

It was past midnight by the time Patrick was ensconced in a pair of pyjamas in their bed, thoughts of a shower abandoned, his leg propped up on a pillow having wrestled it out of all the Velcro, as David handed him a mug of tea and a plate.

‘You sure you don’t want anything other than toast?’ David asked as he climbed into bed next to Patrick, cradling his own mug to his chest.

‘I’m not really hungry, but I also very much want painkillers.’

‘Hmmm,’ David mumbled as he got back out of bed, left his mug on the bedside table and headed back down the stairs.

Patrick took a bite of toast and slowly chewed as he struggled to keep his eyes open. ‘I’ve already fished them out, David,’ Patrick called out to him, assuming David had gone for painkillers which were already sat on Patrick’s bedside table, having found them in the bathroom cabinet.

‘I know, I’m looking for something else,’ he heard David call back distantly. He heard what sounded like cupboards slamming and the freezer door opening. Patrick sighed, unable to go and investigate what his husband was up to, and too tired to honestly care at that moment in time.

By the time David reappeared Patrick had managed to consume half a slice of toast. David was clutching two tea towels in his hands, that clearly had something wrapped in them. As he got closer to the bed, he realised David had been to make makeshift ice packs for him. He placed the first one gently over Patrick’s elevated knee.

‘Thanks,’ Patrick sighed.

The second one David brought with him as he crawled back into bed, facing Patrick and holding the makeshift ice pack against Patrick’s bruised ribs with one hand and clutching his mug with the other. They sat in silence just looking at each other as Patrick slowly finished his slice of toast between lethargic sips of tea.

‘Are you going to be okay on your own at the store tomorrow?’ Patrick asked when he was finished eating, twisting to try and reach the painkillers.

David stopped him by grabbing his wrist. ‘That’s not for you to worry about,’ he said as he took the plate from Patrick’s lap, leaning over him to put it on the bedside table and grabbing the painkillers for him. He paused on his way back, looking straight at Patrick.

David’s hands came up to frame Patrick’s face, ‘So stop worrying.’ David leant in to kiss Patrick, his hands moving to the back of Patrick’s neck and shoulders, massaging the tense muscles there. He kissed him one more time before pulling back and handing Patrick the painkillers. He reached for the ice pack that had slid down Patrick’s side and tucked it under Patrick’s armpit before swinging himself back round in the bed, his weight a comfortable presence next to Patrick.

Patrick swallowed the painkillers, contemplating what he was going to say next, just to try and make David understand.

‘I just-‘ Patrick sighed, looking down at his mug of tea still clutched between his hands. ‘I just don’t do very well at being useless.’

‘You’re not useless. You will never be useless, okay? You’re just _very_ incapacitated at the moment.’

‘David you know I’m a take charge guy, so the thought of not being able to do that it- I don’t know-‘

David’s head dropped onto Patrick’s shoulder, his fingers entwining with Patrick’s own. ‘I know, okay, but I very much meant what I said. Also, let’s just take this a day at a time. So, the plan for tomorrow is we get you setup with Netflix and snacks in bed and I go into the store in the morning and sort things out.’

‘But what about after tomorrow, David? How long am I not going to be able to do things? You’re going to have to look after the store on your own. You’re going to have to cook, and do the shopping, and- I can’t even make myself a cup of tea at the moment, because I can’t even fill the kettle and then take it back to the stove. We’re supposed to be going to stay with my parents next week. You can’t drive all that way on your own, and I can’t expect my parents to look after me.’

David didn’t say anything immediately, just squeezed Patrick’s hand, thumb running over Patrick's knuckles. ‘What matters is you getting better, not the fact that I’m going to have to make cups of tea, and tie your shoelaces, and fucking learn to cook lasagne. I don’t care about all that, as long as you’re okay.’ David turned his head to look at Patrick, a hand coming up to his cheek. ‘And your mom will understand if we don’t go.’

Patrick nodded, knowing that when he eventually told his Mom she’d be threatening to drive straight over.

‘One day at a time,’ David said, looking intently at Patrick.

And somehow that look on David’s face quietened the voice in Patrick’s head enough to remind him that he was loved, and cared for, and he didn’t always have to be the one that made things right all the time.


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick awoke several times during the night, each time feeling more exhausted and uncomfortable than the last. When he woke at 5am he listened to the birds singing their dawn chorus while he waited for the painkillers to kick in, his glazed eyes watching the curtains dancing in the breeze.

When he next woke it was because he could feel the mattress shifting as David climbed out of bed. Patrick kept his eyes closed a moment, listening to David’s soft footfalls across the bedroom floor, contemplating moving. What felt like moments later, David was pressing a kiss to his forehead.

‘Hey,’ David said softly, as Patrick blinked his eyes open. He was surprised to find his husband fully dressed, although looking somewhat sleep deprived.

‘What time is it?’ Patrick asked, his eyes roaming to the bedside table in search of the alarm clock. He found his view obstructed by a steaming mug of what Patrick assumed was tea.

‘It’s just after half eight. I’m going to go and open the store. I’ve made you a cup of tea and some more toast. Your laptop is on my side of the bed if you want it. Your crutches and splint are down here.’ David pointed down at his feet. ‘Your phone is on charge on my side of the bed. Call me if you need anything, okay?’ David’s hand moved to Patrick’s cheek. ‘No, adventuring any further than the bathroom, ‘kay?’

Patrick nodded, trying to wake up enough to process the fact David had taken care of what seemed like everything, while he slept obliviously on. David leant in to kiss him on the lips. ‘I’ll be back at lunchtime. Just take it easy this morning.’ David gave him another kiss, his hand moving down to squeeze Patrick’s arm. ‘Love you.’

‘Love you too,’ Patrick mumbled, watching David exit the room, throwing a smile back in his wake. Patrick listened to the front door closing before he pulled himself into a sitting position with a lot of huffing and puffing. He readjusted the pillow beneath his leg, pausing for a moment before he reached for his cup of tea.

He still felt exhausted, his leg was throbbing in time with his heart, possibly more painful than it had been last night and he realised David was right. All he wanted to do that morning was doze in a painful haze on the bed with some NBC comedy that didn’t require any thought from him. For the moment though, his brain wouldn’t allow him. The things that had concerned him last night were still vying for attention, and he realised he should probably phone his Mom to let her know that it was unlikely that he and David would be visiting next week.

He slowly ate the toast David had left him, mulling over what he was going to say to her. He took some more painkillers before he reached to rescue his phone from David’s bedside table, hoping by the end of the phone call with his mom they would have kicked in enough to let him fall back asleep.

‘Hey, Mom.’

‘Patrick, sweetheart, what a nice surprise. I thought you’d be at work at this time. Is everything alright?’

‘I-um-‘ Somehow telling his mother was harder than telling David. Maybe because when he’d told David, his husband had been able to see that Patrick was mostly whole, and therefore less likely to spiral out in a panic.

‘Patrick, what is it? Is David okay?’

‘David’s fine. He’s at work. I’m-‘ he paused, swallowing down his concern for his mother and how she would react. ‘I uh, I had a bit of an accident yesterday while I was out hiking.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?’

‘I was out on the trail where I proposed to David and I don’t know what happened, but I guess my knee went one way and I went the other. Long story short, I’ve dislocated my knee.’

‘Oh my goodness. Was David with you at least?’

Patrick paused before answering, because he didn’t want to worry his mother even more, but he also couldn’t lie to her. ‘No.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, that must have been horrible. How did you get back home?’

Patrick bit his lip, trying not to cry, trying to brush off what had happened in an effort not to worry his mother. ‘It wasn’t fun. Didn’t have any reception where I was hiking, but I managed to get back to the car and then call David to come pick me up. We got back late from the emergency room otherwise I would have called you last night.’

‘Oh, my darling boy.’

Patrick wished his Mom would stop saying ‘Oh’ with an increasing volume of apprehension. It felt like a stab to his heart every time she did.

‘I’m really sorry, but I don’t think we’ll be able to visit you next week.’

‘Oh, Patrick, don’t you worry about coming to visit us. The important thing is making sure you’re okay. What did the doctors say?’

Patrick sighed. ‘I should be getting an appointment with orthopaedics in a couple of days and they should be able to give me a better idea of what I’ve done and how long I’ll be on crutches for.’

‘Do you want me and your father to come down for a couple of days to help you out?’

‘No, Mom, you and Dad have got enough to do. David’s- we’ll be fine.’

There was a pause, where Patrick could practically hear the cogs in his mother’s brain turning as she geared up to either tell him off like he was a small child, or as she tried to rephrase her sentence so that it didn’t come out in such an overbearing way.

‘Patrick, honey, please promise me that you won’t go out hiking on your own again?’

Patrick laughed. ‘David made me promise the same thing last night.’

‘Course he did, sensible man that he is.’ That made Patrick laugh a second time, because only his mother could describe David as sensible.

‘Well since you’ve already promised David that one thing, I want a second promise from you. I want you to promise me that you’ll let that husband of yours look after you, okay?’

Patrick was confused for a minute. ‘Mom?’

Patrick could hear his mother sighing down the phone at him, in that way that said she’d had enough. ‘I know what you’re like. You’re your father’s son. You’ll pretend you’re fine and that you can continue to do things for yourself until you either lose a limb or keel over, so I want you to promise me that you’ll let David look after you, you hear me?’

Patrick gnawed on his lip again, looking out the bedroom window at the leaves on the cherry blossom trees blowing in the wind.

‘Patrick?’

‘I’ll be fine, Mom.’

He could almost hear his mother counting to ten in her head. ‘If I hear from David that you’re being stubborn and trying to run before you can walk, then there will be hell to pay young man. So, I want you to promise me.’

Patrick sighed, ‘Okay, I promise.’

* * *

David was restocking the shelves, pausing every couple of minutes to check his phone and make sure Patrick hadn’t texted him to say he’d accidentally fallen down the stairs, or decided to take it upon himself to do something ridiculous like clean the house. The bell above the door went and David looked up from his phone screen to see Stevie with two coffee cups in her hand and a brown paper bag that David hoped contained baked goods from the café.

‘I brought coffee and muffins, because I figured you probably hadn’t eaten and were cranky about it,’ Stevie said, putting the bag down on the counter as David crossed the store to join her.

‘Thanks.’

‘How’s Patrick this morning?’

David had texted Stevie when they’d got home from the hospital to let her know the outcome of their trip to the emergency room. She’d just responded with the thumbs up emoji, which considering it was past midnight, and it was Stevie, was fairly supportive.

David shrugged as he took his coffee from Stevie and leant against the counter. ‘I left him in bed.’

‘Wow. Patrick still in bed after the dawn chorus, unheard of.’

‘He was still pretty groggy when I left him. He was sort of spiralling out last night after he realised he couldn’t untie his own shoelaces.’

‘Well, yeah, I mean that’s- that would send anyone over the edge.’ Stevie was picking at one of the muffins from the bag now, watching David intently. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’

David nodded, biting his lip. ‘He hiked five kilometres back to the car with a dislocated knee. I mean, who fucking does that?’

‘Oh my God!’ Stevie threw her hands up to cover her mouth, horrified. ‘Who is he, Bear Grylls?’

David shrugged, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘Apparently.’

‘David that’s crazy.’ Stevie’s eyes were wide in her head. ‘No wonder he looked so exhausted and white as a sheet when we found him.’

‘I just-‘ David swallowed, trying not to cry. ‘I wish he hadn’t been on his own. I wish I’d closed the store early and gone with him. Or suggested we go on our day off together. I just keep picturing him lying on that trail on his own in pain and scared because there wasn’t anyone with him.’

Stevie put a hand on David’s arm, rubbing in sympathy.

‘I made him promise last night that he wouldn’t go hiking on his own again.’

‘Was he okay with that?’

‘He barely hesitated when he promised.’ David played with the lid of his coffee cup for a moment. ‘And now he thinks that he’s useless and feels like he screwed up.’

‘Did he say that?’

‘The useless part, yes. The screwing up part I’m reading between the lines.’ David took a sip of his coffee. ‘He apologised, like he was sorry I had to take him to the hospital and look after him. I know he doesn’t do well with not being the one in charge, but does he think that I can’t take care of him?’

‘I don’t think it’s that,’ Stevie said, almost immediately.

David sighed, shaking his head, because he knew Stevie was right. He continued to play with the lid of his coffee cup, staring down at it like it held all the answers. He could feel the anxiety that had been churning in his stomach since Patrick had said the words _I need you to come get me_ , building exponentially. The last time Patrick had been hurting was when he’d had his wisdom teeth out, which had been both hilarious and terrifying in equal measures, but after a few of day’s Patrick had mostly been back to his old self, apart from a puffy face and a sore jaw, which he’d forgotten about in a week. The difference had been that Patrick had been able to carry on as normal and do things for himself, or in the early stages - been too high to care what was happening.

David felt like he was navigating new territory with no map, no compass and no clue how he was going to make it out of this.

‘Are you okay?’

Stevie’s voice almost made David jump, he’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts. ‘Of course I’m not fucking okay, my husband hiked 5 kilometres back to his car with a dislocated knee yesterday on his own. I’m very close to a panic attack right now.’

Stevie blinked a couple of times. ‘Muffin?’

David managed an incredulous look before he broke, taking the proffered bag from Stevie and staring into its depths at the muffin contained within. He took it out and started to eat it, despite having eaten breakfast at the house while he was making Patrick’s breakfast.

‘Look, can you watch the store for an hour at lunch so I can go home and check on him? Make sure he’s not decided to clean the gutters or something equally ridiculous.’

Stevie watched him for a moment before she seemed to make a decision. ‘How about I watch the store for the rest of the day, you go home and look after your husband and you owe me a huge favour?’

‘Um- that was almost a sweet gesture until the huge favour.’

‘Didn’t want you to think I’d been body swapped or something.’ Stevie tried not to smile. ‘Go, before I change my mind.’ She gave him a little shove towards the door.

* * *

David listened as he quietly shut the front door behind him. He bent to take his shoes off as he heard the distant sounds of people talking. He couldn’t make out if it was Patrick on the phone to someone or the background chatter of some television show.

When he entered the bedroom, he found Patrick propped up on a couple of pillows, his eyes closed as canned laughter came from the open laptop on the bed. David slid onto the bed beside his husband, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. Patrick’s brow furrowed slightly before his eyes opened.

‘Is it lunchtime?’

David shook his head, smiling at how sleep rumpled Patrick was. It was very rarely that he got to appreciate Patrick this way since he was such a morning person. His eyes were at half-mast as he attempted to stifle a yawn and focus on David. David could see the lines of pain in his furrowed brow which deepened as he tried to shift in the bed slightly, causing David’s face to crumple.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Patrick asked, reaching out a hand for David and landing on his knee where it was bent underneath him. David shook his head again, trying to blink back the tears that were gathering, looking up to the ceiling in the vain hope his eyes would re-absorb the moisture.

‘I just-‘ David took a breath. ‘I keep thinking about how you hiked down the side of that mountain on your own, in pain, and-‘ David put his hand over Patrick’s and squeezed tightly, as if that would somehow dissolve the lump in his throat. Patrick turned his hand over to interlace their fingers, tugging slightly in encouragement. David moved round, curling into the side of Patrick, his head lying on Patrick’s shoulder. He felt Patrick let out a long exhale.

‘While I was lying on the trail, I just kept thinking about how much I wanted you. The thought of you coming to get me though, that kept me going. That, and the worry that you might call out mountain rescue, and I didn’t want to deal with that embarrassment.’

David huffed out a laugh as he wiped at his eyes. ‘I’m sorry you had to go through it on your own. I wish I’d been with you. But mostly I wish it hadn't happened.’

‘Me too. On all counts. It was- It was scary.’

It was the first time Patrick hadn’t brushed off what had happened with a joke. David pulled himself further up in the bed and gathered Patrick into his arms, a hand rubbing up and down his shoulder.

‘I was really close to the edge, and if my other knee had gone-‘

‘But it didn’t, and you’re okay. Mostly.’ David pressed a kiss to Patrick’s head, clutching him closer. ‘You hiked back down to the car like some kind of rugged mountain man, and then I came and got you.’

Patrick huffed out a laugh as he leant further into David, a hand swiping away tears that were gathering at the corner of his eyes.

‘I will always come and get you,’ David whispered. He felt Patrick’s hand clasp his forearm, gripping tightly as he took a deep stuttering breath, a sure sign that Patrick was trying to reign in his emotions.

They sat that way for a while, both vaguely watching the laptop that was nestled between their legs. David could feel Patrick getting heavier in his arms as he slowly relaxed.

‘I spoke to my Mom,’ Patrick said suddenly. ‘Told her we probably wouldn’t be coming down next week.’

‘You were looking forward to it.’

‘I know, but we’ll see them another time. My Mom also made me promise not to go hiking on my own, and she called you a sensible man for making me promise the same thing.’

David laughed. ‘I always liked your Mom.’

‘She also made me promise to let you look after me.’ David didn’t say anything, because he could feel that Patrick was gearing up for something. ‘I know I’m going to be a nightmare some days, because I’ll try to do things that I can’t really do, and as my Mom said I’ll try to run before I can walk, but when I get grumpy, I just- I need you to know it’s not with you trying to look after me, okay?’

‘Hm-mmm,’ David mumbled into Patrick’s hair.

‘It’s me being frustrated at myself and the situation, and being in pain.’

‘Am I going to get this sort of pre-emptive apology every time you get cranky?’

There was a pause before Patrick answered. ‘No, because I can’t always pre-empt when you’re going to be vaguely ridiculous.’

David’s hand clutched at Patrick’s forearm in recognition of the jibe, and Patrick could picture that coy half smile on his husband’s face, without even looking.

As the end credits played on the episode, David felt Patrick tense slightly in his arms.

‘Did you close the store to come home?’

‘No, Stevie said she’d watch it today.’

David could feel Patrick relaxing slightly. ‘That was nice of her.’

‘I’m fairly certain we’re going to need to buy her a car as a thank you, either that or there will be no wine left in our store by the end of the day, which she _will_ have taken in lieu of payment.’

Patrick laughed. ‘Oh yeah, that wine is already gone.’

* * *

David had disappeared downstairs to make them some lunch, Patrick saying he would come join him but he wanted to shower yesterday off himself first. He still felt like there were parts of the trail clinging to him, but he’d been so exhausted and in far too much pain to shower when they got back from the hospital the previous evening. Now he was sat on the toilet seat, fighting with Velcro as he geared himself up to what would no doubt be both a fraught and arduous task.

He’d just managed to make it to his feet when David’s head appeared round the door of the bathroom.

‘Need a hand?’

Patrick had one hand pressed against the cold tile of the bathroom wall, his left leg held away from the ground as he stared morosely at the distance between himself and the shower stall. He nodded, looking up at David with what he assumed was a look of resignation plastered over his face.

‘Now, are we committed to a shower, or do we want to try a bath?’

‘Only if you think you can lift me in and out of the tub.’

David seemed to contemplate this for a moment before reconsidering. ‘Maybe we’ll build up to the tub.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

David smiled reassuringly crossing to the shower to turn it on. Patrick watched as David divested himself of his clothes, hanging them on the back of the bathroom door before he turned back to Patrick who’d already managed to undress himself.

There was a lot of leaning on David, and trying not to hop in case he slipped before they were both safely ensconced in the shower. Patrick had his hands on David’s shoulders, facing the back wall as the water pounded onto his back. He closed his eyes and let his head drop forward so it was leant against one of David’s shoulders.

Patrick could hear the sound of the shampoo bottle being uncapped before he felt David’s fingers running through his hair, lathering the shampoo over his scalp and massaging his head.

They’d been married for over a year now, had known each other longer, but this somehow felt like the most intimate thing they’d ever done. Patrick blinked, unsure if the water running down his face was tears or not as he savoured in the feeling of David looking after him.

He loved David deeply, and he knew David felt the same way, but somehow that moment, when he was at his most vulnerable, he felt so unconditionally loved by this beautiful man. Patrick turned his head slightly, kissing David’s neck. It wasn’t one of lust, which is how it usually went when they shared a shower, but a soft thank you for everything.

He stood there, balanced on one leg as David washed him from head to toe, using his hands to splash Patrick clean. The worries that Patrick had had about being incapacitated seemed to fade into the background as he let himself be looked after by his husband. He felt David’s hands back in his hair, short fingernails scraping through his scalp in the way that sent shivers down his spine.

‘Ready to get out?’

Patrick hummed as David shut off the water, extracting himself from the shower before helping Patrick to step out.

‘Thank you,’ Patrick said softly as David wrapped a towel round his waist, before helping him to sit back on the closed toilet seat.

‘I feel like I don’t need thanking for sharing a shower with my gorgeous husband.’ David was quickly drying himself off, already pulling a t-shirt over his head, that bashful half-smile on his lips that Patrick loved so much.

‘I don’t mean just the shower, David,’ Patrick said, pausing in half-heartedly drying himself off with a second towel David had handed to him. David finished pulling on his pants before closing the distance between them, taking the second towel from Patrick, a hand going to the back of his neck before David was leaning down to kiss him.

David pulled back, lingering to make sure he had Patrick’s undivided attention. ‘You are always welcome.’

‘I love you,’ Patrick said, even as David threw the towel over his head to rub his hair dry.

‘Love you too,’ David responded with such ease, his hands dropping down to squeeze Patrick’s shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

David extracted himself from the sofa and the sleeping form of his husband as he heard a knock at the front door. They’d spent most of the day sat on the sofa watching movies, Patrick dozing on and off while David made cups of tea and tried to encourage Patrick to eat. David had done some worried googling half way through _Notting Hill_ to find that lack of appetite was a common symptom after injury.

When David opened the front door, Stevie was stood on the doorstep carrying two pizza boxes and a bottle of wine.

‘Your store is still standing,’ she said as she crossed the threshold, heading towards the kitchen. She dug the store keys out of her pocket and put them down on the kitchen island. ‘I didn’t understand Patrick’s spreadsheets, so I thought I’d leave it for him as a get well present to cash up everything from today.’

David smiled, ‘Mmm, is that a present, or just laziness on your part?’

‘My present to you is pizza and wine.’

David considered this for a moment. ‘Better present. You may stay.’

Stevie smiled. ‘Is Laurence Oates still in bed?’

‘Um, I don’t know who that is, but Patrick is in the living room, and very much drooling into the cushions. I’ll wake him up so you can gift your present to him yourself.’

Stevie smiled, already fishing around for the corkscrew in the kitchen drawer as David headed back to the living room. Patrick hadn’t moved from where David had left him lying with his foot up on the arm of the sofa, a mountain of pillows beneath his leg to keep it in place. David crouched down so he was next to Patrick’s head, a hand reaching out to run through Patrick’s hair.

‘Patrick?’

‘Hmm?’ Patrick’s eyes didn’t open.

‘Stevie brought pizza for dinner.’

There was a pause where David suspected Patrick had fallen asleep again. ‘Do I have to move?’

‘Hmm, I think you might want to at least sit up or eating pizza might become difficult.’

Stevie entered the living room at that moment, dropping the pizza boxes onto the coffee table, a glass of wine in her other hand and the bottle of wine tucked under her arm.

‘Wow, Long John Silver, I’m not sure if you look better or worse than last night.’

‘Not sure if I feel better or worse than last night.’ Patrick’s eyes were open now, looking up at Stevie, who was looking down at Patrick’s leg that was encased in layers of Velcro. Patrick tried to struggle into a sitting position, David jumping in to help prop him up against the arm of the sofa. Patrick grabbed his leg with both hands, shifting it so it was more comfortably propped on the pile of pillows and trying not to jostle his ribs in the process.

‘David, can you grab me an ice pack?’

David’s hand squeezed his shoulder. ‘Sure. You want a glass for wine or-?’

‘Just water, thanks.’

David’s lips pursed and he nodded before heading back to the kitchen.

Stevie had deposited the wine on the table and was now unfurling one of the pizza boxes, holding it out so Patrick could grab a slice.

‘Thanks,’ Patrick said. ‘Not just for the pizza, but for driving David last night, and for looking after the store today.’

‘You are welcome,’ Stevie said, as she sat down in the armchair, legs folded underneath her.

‘Also, I feel like I should thank you for stopping him spiralling, since I assume that’s why you offered to look after the store.’

Stevie stopped where she was trying to wrestle her own slice of pizza from the box, looking up at Patrick. ‘If you had seen yourself yesterday, you would understand why he was spiralling.’

Patrick smiled sadly. ‘Still, thank you.’

Stevie nodded. ‘I wouldn’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen how well I looked after your store. Also, I made sure that I left you the fun part of cashing up the day’s takings.’

David came back into the room as Patrick smirked at Stevie, knowing that for all she joked she would have made sure everything was in order at the store. David handed Patrick the ice pack, letting him position it himself. As Patrick did so, David helped himself to pizza, and sat down on the floor beside Patrick’s hip.

‘So, have they said how long you’ll be part pirate for?’ Stevie asked, sipping her wine.

‘The hospital called this afternoon to sort out an appointment for me next Monday with orthopaedics.’

‘Maybe they’ll fit you for a parrot.’

David slapped Stevie on the leg, glaring up at his best friend even as Patrick laughed. ‘I hope not, I don’t think I could cope with two flapping chatter boxes in the house.’

Stevie laughed as David turned his glare on Patrick now. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, have I just been flapping round you today like a brightly coloured distraction?’

Patrick had barely parted his lips to speak before David was pointing a finger at him, ‘Don’t answer that.’

‘I wouldn’t say brightly coloured,’ Patrick commented as he took a sip of water, his eye catching Stevie’s, who was trying very hard not to laugh. David just glared.

David helped Patrick up to bed not long after the pizza was finished before returning to Stevie in the living room.

‘How was today?’ Stevie asked as David started faffing with the abundance of pillows on the sofa, eventually pushing them to one side so he could sit down, hugging one to his chest as he picked up his glass of wine again.

‘Okay.’

‘Thanks for that in-depth answer.’

David rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘What do you want me to say? It’s horrific watching my husband being in pain and not being able to do anything to help?’

‘It’s a start. Also, I’m not sure if I’m right, but bringing him painkillers and ice packs and being supportive I’m fairly certain is doing things to help.’

‘I suppose.’

Stevie sighed. ‘David, you can’t just wave a magic wand and make it all better for him. All you can do is be there for him and let him lean on you. Literally in this case.’

‘I guess you’re right.’

‘You guess I’m right?’

David rolled his eyes at Stevie, and took another sip of his wine.

‘Look, if you need me to, I can get Roland to manage the motel on Monday so I can watch the store for you, if that helps?’

David’s face went through a range of emotions, before he was nodding. ‘It helps.’

* * *

There was a knock at the front door while Patrick was blinking owlishly at invoices, propped up on the sofa where David had left him a couple of hours previously. It had taken some convincing for David to let Patrick work from home and not hide his laptop from him. He’d made promises to nap and not spend the whole day David was at the store doing invoices, arguing that there was only so much Netflix he could watch in a day. David had claimed that was _not possible_ , but relented.

‘It’s open,’ Patrick called.

‘Hello? Patrick?’ Patrick’s eyebrows raised slightly at the sound of that voice, unsure what Jocelyn was doing at his front door.

‘In the living room.’

‘I popped into the store earlier this morning and David told me about your misfortunate adventure, so I thought I’d pop over with some food for the both of you.’

Patrick could see Jocelyn was clutching a casserole dish in both hands where she was lingering in the doorway. He could trust Jocelyn to put a positive spin on things. ‘It’s just my sausage casserole, so you just need to pop it in the oven for twenty minutes to reheat. I’ll leave it in the kitchen for you.’

Jocelyn disappeared towards the kitchen and Patrick wondered if David had mentioned that Patrick had been planning to make lasagne that week to Jocelyn on purpose, or she just intuitively knew that David’s cooking skills weren’t always the best, despite David’s valiant attempts. Patrick heard the clattering of a dish being put down on the worksurface, the running of water and the clicking of the stove going on before Jocelyn reappeared.

‘I’ve put the kettle on, thought I’d make myself useful and make you a cup of tea while I’m here.’

‘That’s really kind of you, Jocelyn. Thank you.’

‘Well what are friends for,’ Jocelyn said coming further into the room and taking her handbag off to sit in the armchair.

‘Gosh, you really did take a tumble, didn’t you?’ Jocelyn said, eyeing up Patrick’s brace.

‘It was a hike I don’t particularly wish to repeat anytime soon,’ Patrick admitted, putting his laptop to one side.

‘Now, I didn’t want to overstep with David when I saw him, but if you boys need a hand with the store until you’re back on your feet, I’m happy to offer my services again.’

‘Jocelyn, we can’t ask that of you.’

‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. Roland Junior is going to nursery three days a week now, and obviously I’m free as a bird over the summer, so really you’d be doing me a favour by keeping me occupied.’

Patrick smiled. ‘That’s really kind of you, Jocelyn. I’ll mention it to David, but I’m hoping I won’t be down and out for too long.’

Patrick had a pretty shrewd idea of how that conversation would go, but considering Jocelyn had said that their store _wasn’t for her_ the last time she’d tried to work there, Patrick took it for the kind gesture it was.

Jocelyn gave him one of her smiles that said she was trying to see the positive in the situation, but didn’t think it was going to end well. ‘Hopefully, but like I said, you need any help, you boys let me know. Even if you just need someone to shop for groceries.’

The kettle started boiling and Jocelyn disappeared back into the kitchen. When she returned, Patrick didn’t want to delve back into the forced optimise of when he’d be back on his feet again, so steered the conversation away to the next production Jocelyn was thinking of putting on, which she was more than happy to talk about.

* * *

‘I feel like I’m getting a glimpse at old man Patrick,’ David teased. Patrick looked up from where he was struggling to put on a pair of socks, as David crossed the room towards him. Patrick wriggled his toes on his left foot, making the sock he’d barely managed to get over them flap about as David bent down to help.

‘Hopefully this will be the last you see of him until I’m actually old and we need to move into a bungalow because neither of us can manage stairs anymore.’ Patrick sounded hopeful as David hiked the sock up Patrick’s ankle and straightened it for him. Without even asking he started pulling the second sock onto Patrick’s other foot, which he would have happily struggled to pull on, while trying not to topple over.

‘Okay, remember that conversation we had the other day about managing of expectations?’ David asked, looking up at Patrick.

‘I know, I know that it’s not going to be magically better, but I’m hoping they’ll at least give me a brace that means I can bend my knee to put my own socks on.’

‘And I say again, Doctor Google, managing of expectations.’ David pulled himself to his feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to Patrick’s forehead, hands rubbing across Patrick’s shoulders.

‘You need to make sure you look after yourself so that I get to see actual old man Patrick, and not do things that you think you can do, but really shouldn’t be doing.’

Patrick sighed, nodding. He knew what David was talking about. They’d had an argument the previous evening when David had come home from the store to find Patrick hopping around the kitchen, trying to cook the lasagne he’d been planning to cook prior to injuring himself. It had ended in both of them yelling, Patrick leaning against the edge of the counter as he struggled to stay balanced on one foot, before David had reached a register of sound that only dogs could hear while he half carried Patrick back to the sofa.

‘I know,’ Patrick said, looking up at David who was now stood before him holding his crutches.

‘What-‘ Patrick swallowed, his throat suddenly felt dry, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips so he could get the question that had been turning over in the pit of his stomach for the last week. ‘What if I need surgery?’

David gave him a sad smile. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. And we’ll deal with it. Together.’

Patrick nodded, trying to give David a vaguely reassuring smile.

‘Hey,’ David’s hand reached out to cup the side of Patrick’s face, turning it up so Patrick was looking at him. ‘It’s okay not to be okay with any of this. It’s okay that you’re scared.’

‘I’m not-‘ Patrick stopped himself before he could deny what they both knew was the truth. ‘Not terrified.’

‘Okay, well that’s a double negative, honey.’ David kissed Patrick on the lips, trying to lend strength where he could. ‘Also, I think we need to be _not_ not terrified on the way to the car so we’re not late for your appointment.’

Patrick struggled to his feet, adjusting his shorts before sliding his arms into his crutches and following David out the bedroom door.

* * *

‘You okay?’ David asked, looking across at Patrick in the car. ‘You’ve not said two words since we left the clinic. I know you’re not as loquacious as me, but you’re practically laconic.’

‘Did you phone your mom recently?’

‘Um, yes. You know I did, you said you could hear her from upstairs, demanding why I hadn’t called her immediately when my husband had ‘ _plummeted to his calamitous kismet_ ’. Why?’

‘Loquacious. Laconic.’

‘Don’t distract me by making fun of me. Or my mother.’ David made a flapping motion in Patrick’s direction with one hand. ‘Answer my question.’

Patrick looked away from David, down at his lap, pulling at a thread on the sleeve of his hoodie. ‘No. I mean, yes.’

‘Well now I feel like I completely understand your frame of mind and mood. Thanks for the clarification.’

Patrick sighed, looking out the side window and watching the fields and trees for a moment rushing by as they drove back to Schitts Creek. ‘I guess I was hoping there would be more answers today, not “Come back for more tests”.’

There was a pause before David answered, and Patrick could practically hear the gears whirring in David’s brain. ‘You’ve got a new brace that means you can bend your knee again.’

‘To thirty degrees.’

‘It’s thirty more degrees than this morning.’

‘I know, and I know I’m being ridiculous because it’s just over a week since I damaged myself, and it’s going to take time. I think I just hoped for more.’ He sighed, before letting out a barely audible, ‘It’s stupid.’

Patrick started slightly when he felt David’s hand grabbing his forearm that was resting in his lap, squeezing in reassurance. ‘It’s not stupid. It’s just you being your optimistic self, and your knee not listening.’

Patrick huffed out a laugh before he picked up David’s hand to press a kiss to the palm. ‘Thank you.’


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow Patrick managed to convince David to let him come to the store the next morning, with the promise that if he was too tired or his leg started hurting any more than it already did he would say something. Patrick had been doing what little work he could do from the sofa on his laptop, balancing the books more than anything, but they needed to do inventory, and even David knew that was a two-person job. That, and there was no way Patrick would let David anywhere near the spreadsheets.

The bell above the shop door tinkled. ‘I didn’t know you had an audition for the next terminator film.’

Patrick tried not to glare at Stevie as she shut the door behind her, balancing three takeaway cups from the cafe.

‘Can you have tea, or do you rust if you drink liquid?’

Patrick answered her question by shifting his weight so he was balanced on his good leg and one crutch, holding out his hand for the tea with his other hand. Stevie smirked.

‘I see you’ve had an upgrade,’ Stevie said, indicating the brace on Patrick’s leg that was a step-up from the straight splint he’d had for the last week.

‘I’ve graduated to 30 degrees.’

‘Wow. A whole 30 degrees. You’re almost as flexible as Barbie.’ Stevie smiled. ‘What did they say yesterday?’

‘I have to go for an MRI to see how much damage I’ve done to the soft tissue.’

‘They also said that you shouldn’t be working,’ David said, pointedly looking at Patrick.

‘David, I’m not having this argument again. It’s just for today, okay. And I promised you that when I’m tired or in more pain than I already am, I’ll say something.’

As if to prove his point, Patrick held out his cup of tea towards David who took it from him, while Patrick used both crutches to manoeuvre himself round the back of the counter where he perched on the stool there that David had fished out of the back room.

‘I know, I know, but you can’t be mad at me for being worried.’

David handed Patrick back his tea, not letting go of the cup until Patrick looked at him, his eyebrows raised in a stern look that reminded Patrick of David’s father, which he found more endearing than intimidating.

‘I feel like you’re potentially the only person on the planet who would insist on working when they’ve been told they’re medically not fit to work,’ Stevie said, clearly trying to break the tension.

David broke his eye contact with Patrick to look at Stevie. ‘Because he’s being Patrick about it.’

Patrick’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I think he means that you’re being a uh stubborn idiot.’

David gestured at Stevie with a hand as if he was some kind of magician and Stevie had just revealed the ending of a trick.

‘Why do I feel like this is a planned intervention?’ Patrick asked, shifting uncomfortably on the stool and tugging at the brace.

Stevie leant against the counter, so that both her and David were staring across it at Patrick who was sat meekly on the stool. ‘David and I rarely plan anything.’

‘And yet, my palms are sweating.’ Patrick looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them for a second. ‘You do know that the longer you two stand here and bully me, the longer I’ll be in work, which I think is the opposite of what you were going for.’

David and Stevie exchanged a look, but said nothing further.

By lunchtime Patrick was done, both with the inventory and physically. He rubbed tiredly at his right eye which was twitching before hiding a yawn behind his hand. David’s hand appeared at the back of his neck, rubbing some of the tension out as his shoulders dropped forward with his head before the bell above the shop door signalled the arrival of someone.

‘Hello both!’ Jocelyn said cheerily as she shut the door behind. ‘Patrick, how are you doing? How’s your knee?’

‘Well it’s still attached,’ Patrick joked.

‘That’s good,’ Jocelyn said, nodding and smiling, even as she looked over Patrick’s shoulder to David who was stood with his lips pursed, trying hard not to say anything.

‘Well, I’m here and ready to be put to work.’

Patrick frowned. ‘Put to work?’

‘Um, I may have called Jocelyn and asked her to help us out this afternoon after you mentioned the other day that she was willing to. I thought we could have some lunch together and then I’d drop you back home.’

Patrick had a moment where he realised that David must have foreseen this. The minute Patrick had said he wanted to come help with inventory David must have phoned Jocelyn and set in place the wheels of motion for her to come in at lunchtime, when he knew Patrick would be flagging, his leg starting to ache from overuse. It sometimes still surprised Patrick how well David knew him.

Patrick went to the bathroom while David reminded Jocelyn how to work the till, promising that he’d be back by closing time to help Jocelyn shut up the store. He could hear the moment the conversation switched to him, because their voices dropped to hushed whispers, which he couldn’t discern through the wall. When he re-emerged, both of them had plastered on smiles that he tried to return.

‘If you have any questions, just give me a ring,’ David said, his hands emphasising his point as he looked round the store, searching for imminent disasters before his attention turned to Patrick.

‘Lunch?’

They walked over to the cafe, David keeping pace with Patrick.

‘David,’ Patrick said, waiting until David turned to look at him. ‘Thank you.’

David nodded, trying to hide a smile as he reached out to rub a hand over Patrick’s back. ‘If you want, we can take lunch to go, then you can sit with your leg up at home while we eat questionable mozzarella sticks.’

Patrick shook his head. ‘I can sit with my leg up in the booth. It would be nice to have a change of scenery for a bit longer.’

David smiled and nodded as he moved ahead of Patrick, holding the café door open for him.

* * *

‘I can do it myself!’ Patrick barked, swiping his mug of tea from the kitchen counter, trying to balance it carefully as he turned away from David on one crutch.

Something in David snapped. He didn’t know if it was tiredness from getting up early to open the store so many days in a row, or whether it was one harsh word too many from Patrick who was normally teasing sarcasm and not outright boorish.

‘Oh my God, can you stop yelling at me. I have _literally_ no frame of reference for this and I am trying my best to be supportive and I get that you’re mad about this whole situation, but I am trying to help so stop yelling!’

‘David, I’m not-‘ Patrick stopped himself mid-sentence, regarding David across the kitchen who was looking anywhere but at Patrick. He let out a long exhale. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’

It took David a moment to say anything as he seemed to process Patrick’s words, clearly having expected the situation to escalate and not all the fight to go out of Patrick who was now lowering himself down onto one of the kitchen chairs, having given up on trying to carry his mug of tea.

‘Um, okay.’

‘I know you’re trying to help. I’m not mad at you.’

‘I remember the exhausted preemptive apology. But I just need you to know that I _literally_ have no idea what I am doing, and anything I do is not in an attempt to annoy you.’

Patrick rubbed a hand over his face, resting his chin on his hand as he leant against the kitchen table, looking up at David through his long eyelashes. ‘You’re doing a really good job.’

David frowned. ‘Okay, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.’

‘No, you are. I’ve not said it enough. You’ve been amazing the last few weeks.’ David pushed off the kitchen counter and crossed the kitchen towards Patrick, trying to hide a smile without much success. ‘I’m really grateful.’

‘Well you have a funny way of showing it sometimes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Patrick said, reaching out to grab onto the front of David’s jumper, pulling him closer. Normally David would fold quite happily into Patrick’s lap and drape his arms round him. Instead he leant against the edge of the kitchen table, mindful of the cup of tea, Patrick leaning into him, trying to stifle a yawn. David rubbed a hand across Patrick’s shoulders.

‘You’d tell me, right?’

‘What?’

‘If I wasn’t doing a good job of helping.’

‘David, I ask you to do things all the time when you’re not being helpful.’

‘But this is all new to me. Taking care of people, making you feel safe, that’s something that you do, that you’re good at.’

Patrick pulled away from his husband to look up at him, making sure he wasn’t winding him up. He found unabashed sincerity on David's questioning face, even though his focus was on an artist’s impression of the Rosebud Motel adorning the wall. He knew that David’s anxiety was taking a moment to nudge David onto a ledge that was partly of Patrick’s making, and Patrick was more than happy to reel him back in.

‘David,’ Patrick waited until David looked down at him, smiling softly before he continued. ‘You’ve always done a great job at taking care of me.’

* * *

‘Patrick Brewer?’

Patrick looked up at the technician who was smiling down at them both. ‘We’re just about ready to get your MRI started, but before we go through if you’ve got anything valuable or metallic on you, if you want to leave them here with your husband.’

Patrick handed David his phone and keys, patting himself down to check he hadn’t forgotten anything in his pockets.

‘I’m afraid you’ll need to take your wedding ring off as well,’ the Technician said. Patrick frowned before looking down at his wedding band, like he’d forgotten he was wearing it.

Patrick worked the ring off of his finger and placed it into David’s outstretched hand before following the technician through the double doors and disappearing from sight.

David slipped the ring onto his own finger so he wouldn’t lose it. It lay snuggly next to his own wedding ring, despite feeling slightly loose. He sat in the waiting room, rotating both rings round, lubricated by his sweaty palms. They’d left the radio on in the waiting room to keep the occupants company, which at the moment comprised of himself and an older woman.

David didn’t realise he was crying until the woman in the room awkwardly offered him a tissue.

‘Thanks,’ he said, sniffing, before dabbing at his face and blowing his nose. As he tried to compose himself, he realised the reason why he was crying as he tuned back into the song the radio was playing.

‘It’s our wedding song,’ he explained to the woman, pointing at the radio and smiling bashfully.

‘Don’t worry, _Wind Beneath My Wings_ has the exact same effect on me.’

David had to resist voicing the ‘ew’ that was bubbling beneath the surface, instead choosing to nod and then try to distract himself by reading the posters on the walls, waiting for Patrick.

* * *

‘Your head won’t go into the machine, it’ll come up to about your chin. If you start to feel claustrophobic though, you can just press on this.’ The Technician handed Patrick a button which he tried to not immediately press as he gripped it tightly, while the Radiologist manipulated his knee into position.

‘Comfy enough?’

Patrick nodded, swallowing as he tried to calm his heart that felt like he it was about to escape his chest.

‘Just try and relax as much as possible. This should be all done in about twenty minutes.’ The Technician held up a set of what looked like ear defenders. ‘I’m going to put these on you because the machine is loud, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Patrick managed to get that one word past his dry lips. He wetted them as the Technicians smiling face disappeared and he was plunged into a muted world beneath the headphones. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing. He’d never pegged himself as being claustrophobic, but it seemed the combination of the loud clunking of the MRI machine, being trapped in a small metal tube and being in a hospital were starting to induce his fight or flight response. He was grateful he didn’t wear any kind of activity tracker, because he was fairly sure it would show that he was doing a cardio workout while he was lying flat on his back.

He still hadn’t admitted to David that hospitals panicked him, although he was fairly sure that David had managed to deduce that for himself, if his sweaty palms and skittish looks were anything to go by. Patrick, like his parents, was not a good liar, and he felt like his body had betrayed him the minute they’d set off in the car for Elmdale. He didn’t know where it stemmed from. His Mom had suggested once that it might be from when he’d been a kid and managed to end up with a fever so high that they’d had to take him to hospital. Patrick couldn’t remember, but his Mom had said that falling asleep in your own bed and then waking up on a hospital ward with a drip in your arm when you’re nine years old probably had a lasting impact.

Patrick knew it was an irrational fear, knew that nothing was going to happen to him while they took images of his knee, but left alone with his thoughts he could feel himself spinning out. He tried to reign himself back in by thinking about baseball plays, but the sound of the machine changed, panicking him into opening his eyes. He concentrated instead on keeping as still as possible while he stared up at the edge of the MRI machine, watching the numbers on the display count backwards to zero. When the numbers flashed zero he let out a long breath, hoping that would be it, but the numbers reset to five minutes and he felt his right hand involuntarily clutching tighter at the button in his clammy palm.

Patrick almost startled when he felt someone relieving him of the headphones.

‘All done,’ the Technician said, smiling down at Patrick. ‘You okay?’

Patrick managed a shaky nod as the bed slid out of the machine and the cage round his knee was removed. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position and lift his legs off the side of the bed and back onto the little stool that had been placed beside the MRI machine.

‘Do you need a hand with your shoes?’

‘I think I should be okay, thanks.’

Patrick managed to get his hiking trainers back on before the technician handed Patrick back his crutches, holding the door open so he could manoeuvre himself back out into the small anterior room.

‘I’ll bring your brace if you want to go back into the waiting room,’ the Technician offered, holding open the second set of doors back into the brightly lit waiting room.

‘Hey, you okay?’ David asked, jumping to his feet when Patrick appeared around the corner. Patrick managed a vague nod as he concentrated on balancing on one foot while he took his arms out his crutches, moving them to one hand and lowered himself back into the waiting room chair. The technician appeared beside David who was now holding onto Patrick’s crutches, passing the knee brace back to Patrick.

‘Um, when will we get the results?’ David asked, and Patrick was grateful, because in focusing solely on the heavy thump of his heart in his chest for the last hour, Patrick had forgotten to function as the put together adult he normally was.

‘It’ll probably take a week or so for the radiologist to review your scans and then you should get a letter from your consultant asking you to come back in to fracture clinic again to talk things through.’

‘Okay, great, um, thanks,’ David said, before turning his attention back to Patrick who was struggling to put his knee brace back on. David wanted to offer to help, but knew from previous experience that Patrick got snappy sometimes if David offered to help with the brace. Instead he waited patiently, sinking back down into the chair next to Patrick, and leaning his head against the crutches he was still holding. David noted the way that Patrick’s hands were shaking slightly as he clipped the straps back in place and pulled the Velcro tight, having to redo a couple of the straps when they didn’t sit right. When he was done he let out a long breath, resting his hands on his thighs, almost rubbing them dry.

‘Okay, well we are done here for a while. How about we go buy you a hot tea and maybe a muffin for me, because while you were in there Tina Turner came on the radio and I cried in front of a woman whose first song she danced to at her wedding was ‘ _Wind Beneath My Wings_ ’, so I think I’ve earned it.’ David’s mini rant had the desired effect, Patrick huffed out a laugh and turned to look at David, smiling in that way that gave David butterflies.

‘You cried?’

‘Hmm-mmm, I think I have PTSD from that time I danced in the shop for you. So, um, that’s a thing.’

Patrick shook his head in disbelief, smiling before leaning in to gently headbutt David’s shoulder in affection for his more than occasionally ridiculous husband. When he pulled back, David took Patrick’s left hand, the pads of his fingers rough where they’d pressed against the strings of a guitar for so long and slid his wedding ring back on, before standing again and offering Patrick his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

It was roughly three weeks after the accident that Patrick woke up one morning and found himself unable to get out of bed. It wasn’t that his leg hurt any more than it usually did, it was just mentally the sheer act of getting out of bed seemed insurmountable at that moment in time.

He told David that he was tired, that he hadn’t slept well the previous night and he wanted to spend the morning napping and David didn’t seem to think anything of it. If anything, he seemed relieved as he kissed Patrick goodbye and left to open the store, saying that he was going to do a grocery shop on the way home, so may be slightly late.

About midmorning Patrick heard someone knocking on the front door, but he ignored it, choosing instead to lie in bed staring at a framed picture of he and David on their wedding day.

Shame eventually forced him downstairs and into eating something at lunchtime, which only ended up being a slice of bread. The same sense of shame made him crawl back up the stairs. He surprised himself by sitting on the top step and crying as his phone rang in the bedroom. He didn’t even check to see who had rung before he crawled back into bed.

Shame also drove him to pull the covers over his head when he heard the front door open and footsteps on the stairs.

‘Patrick?’ David addressed the mound in the middle of the bed, but it remained unmoving and uncommunicative.

David stood by the bed for a moment, unsure on the best course of action before he lay down on his side next to the mound, his hand reaching out to lay on top of the lump in what he hoped was vaguely where Patrick’s back or chest was. He didn’t say anything and they lay there for a long time before the bedcovers shifted and David glimpsed the top of his husband’s head as he unfurled himself from his hiding position.

There was a grunt of pain and a sniff, David’s hand sliding away from Patrick as he shifted in the bed, his face finally revealing itself. He looked so heart wrenchingly sad that David’s own heart hurt to look at him.

‘Hi,’ David whispered, breaking the silence as he watched Patrick closely.

‘Hello,’ Patrick replied, voice gruff from disuse.

‘Um, how was your day?’

Patrick seemed to consider this for a moment, frowning. ‘Not great.’

‘Hmm-mmm, I feel like I could have maybe figured that out on my own.’ David bit his bottom lip and wrapped his hand round Patrick’s that had now emerged from the covers, threading their fingers together. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘I-‘ Patrick took a breath, before he tried to start his sentence again, for some reason unable to look at David, so he stared intently at their hands clasped together. ‘I think, um, I’m upset I suppose at how long it’s taking for me to get back on my feet. That first night, I uh, I just told myself it would be a week. And then after that appointment with orthopaedics I told myself it would be just until after I got my MRI. And then when I had my follow up appointment yesterday and they told me how much damage I had actually done to my knee, I think I realised that this wouldn’t be a quick fix.’

For a disorientating moment, David felt the switch in roles settling around them. David was the one who usually suffered from bad days, struggling to pull himself from bed, exhaustion tugging on him after anxiously spiralling about something that Patrick sometimes had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge. In the last few weeks he’d seen Patrick push himself, frustrated at how incapable he was of doing things, and yet trying to do them anyway. It seemed that today, after yesterday’s appointment, Patrick had tipped over into the reality of his current predicament and come crashing down harder than he had on the trail three weeks ago.

David was in no way surprised. Patrick had been putting a positive spin on everything as much as he could, finally to be told that he had to keep the brace on for another six weeks, start going to physio, and when Patrick had asked about working, he’d been told again that he wasn’t fit to work. He’d seen it coming in the sullen way Patrick had navigated his way through dinner the previous evening, picking at his food and snapping when David had offered to help him shower. There had been a brusque apology before they’d turned the lights out for the evening, lying at opposite sides of the bed.

‘I’m just annoyed at myself for not realising sooner, and mad that it happened in the first place, and I know I’m normally realistic about things, or even optimistic, but today, I think it just hit me and now I feel angry at myself for spending all day in bed, while you were running the store and buying groceries and I was just lying here being… sad.’

‘Okay, first of all, no one should be angry at themselves for spending all day in bed when it was clearly needed. And secondly, you’re allowed to be mad and sad about all of this.’

‘Smad?’

‘Mmm-mm, not a thing,’ David disagreed, which caused the corner of Patrick’s mouth to quirk up in a smile. ‘But feeling both of those things is okay, because this is a _very_ sucky situation, and I am very proud of you and the way you’re handling it. But it is also very okay that you’ve had a wobble today.’

David squeezed Patrick’s hand, smiling at him before reaching out to brush the tears that were running down Patrick’s cheeks.

‘Also, I know you may not feel it right now, but remember the doctor said you were lucky that you hadn’t done more damage and that you didn’t need surgery.’

‘I know.’ Patrick sniffed. ‘Thank you. And I’m sorry. Again.’

David nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment in thought. ‘Okay, so not to take away from your terrible day or make you feel bad, but I’ve only eaten breakfast today, so if I bring up some food, we can watch some form of sports game thing if you want?’

Patrick frowned. ‘You’ve not eaten lunch?’

David waved away the question. ‘Story for another time. After food.’

Patrick had many more questions, and the guilt at having spent the day hiding under the covers churned uncomfortably in his stomach, but he let David push the subject aside for the moment. ‘Can we watch a film instead?’

‘I would not be averse to that plan.’

‘Not a romantic comedy.’

David frowned. ‘I am open to suggestions.’

* * *

David was unpacking the latest shipment of bath salts in a fairly quiet store when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He thought it might be Patrick checking in, but his sister’s face beamed up at him from the screen. For a moment he thought about sending it to voicemail and calling her back later, but then he had the sudden urge to talk to her about what was happening in his life. She’d called him a couple of days after Patrick’s accident, demanding why he hadn’t informed her immediately and he’d promptly cried down the phone at her, surprising both of them.

Since then she’d been checking in on nearly a daily basis, either via text or calling.

‘So, how’s that little button face of yours doing?’ Alexis asked, the sound of New York traffic in the background down the other end of the phone. It was something about Alexis that David found both infuriating and endearing in equal measures, how she launched into a question as if they’d been talking on the phone for hours.

‘Well he’s not crawling into the cupboard high on painkillers, but I don’t think he was far off of it yesterday.’

‘Oh no, does he like need surgery?’

‘No, thank God. Although it was a close thing. Apparently, he’s done the most damage he can do without needing surgery. His knee was lit up like a Christmas tree on the images. He’s badly bruised the bones and some muscle on the inside of his knee that has a fancy name has got soft tissue damage or something as well.’

‘Ew, David. I don’t need like all the gory details.’

‘Then why did you ask?’

Alexis, predictably, ignored the question. ‘I tried to give him a ring but he didn’t answer. I’m guessing he was like having a little nap or something.’

‘Oh, so you didn’t even want to speak to me?’

‘Oh my God, David, it’s not all about you. I just wanted to see that everything was okay, okay?’

David made a face that his sister couldn’t see, but the woman who was doing an idle lap of the shop noticed, missing out the chillers at the front of the store and leaving quickly. David frowned, looking up at the ceiling of the store as he tried to reign in his emotions.

‘Everything is okay, right?’

It sometimes still caught him off guard how much his sister cared. David reached out to the shelf in front of him, straightening bottles and packets so that they were perfectly aligned as he spoke. ‘We’re not _not_ okay.’

‘Okay, David, have you been taking Mom’s pills again, because you’re not making any sense.’

David sighed. ‘Patrick spent all day in bed yesterday. He’s been told he can’t work for six weeks and he’s not taking it the best way, and I don’t know how to help.’

‘Yeah, can you just drop me here. Thanks so much.’

David rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Trust his sister to stop listening when he was saying something actually important.

‘David, you know Patrick already thinks you’re doing way too much to help him, right? He feels super guilty because you’re running the store on your own, while doing everything around the house and looking after him.’

David was surprised to find that she had actually been listening. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘Oh my God, do I need to send like Stevie round to bump your little heads together? He told me.’

David frowned, chewing on his bottom lip in thought, but not saying anything. It was apparent that he wasn’t the only one Alexis had been checking in on a regular basis.

‘Do you want me to come and visit earlier than the end of the month to help out? I can like try and be his cute cheerleading squad and if you need help at the store I could maybe like watch it for you, or something. Maybe just stand at the till.’

David was touched, but the thought of leaving Alexis alone with the store wasn’t particularly something he wanted to repeat considering last time she’d managed to rip the sink off the wall.

‘Um, thanks for the offer, but that’s a hard pass. Although, you do know we probably won’t be able to a lot of the things you wanted to do when you visit? We’ll maybe have to find more indoor and less active things to do.’

‘It’s fine. I still get to see you both,’ Alexis said, which caused David to smile. He imagined that if she were there she would be booping him on the nose. ‘Okay, well, I’ve got to go. Make sure you speak to each other. I’ve heard married people do that.’

‘Hmm-mm, bye now.’

‘Bye, bye, bye.’ Alexis hung up and David pulled his phone away from his ear, the lock screen revealing a picture of he, Patrick, Stevie and Alexis posing in varying degrees of drunkenness from the last time Alexis had come back to town to visit. Patrick had a soppy look on his face, looking sidelong at David, while David’s face was one of concentration, staring resolutely at the camera while he tried to figure out how to take a picture. Stevie was looking confused behind David’s right shoulder, while Alexis was squashed into the side of Patrick making a ‘cute’ face.

He had fond memories of that weekend. Mainly of how hungover they had all been on the Sunday morning, Alexis somehow ending up in bed with he and Patrick watching re-runs of terrible 80s quiz shows until lunchtime, when Patrick had gone downstairs and made bruch for them all.

David looked up from his phone, glancing round the store and confirming it was empty before he went to his favourite contacts and called his husband.

* * *

David’s brain short circuited when he came home one evening, entering their living room to find invoices strewn across the coffee table, couch and floor, and in the midst of all the chaos was his husband lying on the rug with his eyes closed.

‘Patrick!’

His voice was several octaves higher as he lurched around the couch, dropping to his knees, hands grabbing at either side of Patrick’s shoulders in desperation. Patrick’s eyes shot open in alarm, looking up into the panicked face of his husband.

David felt a wave of relief wash over him as Patrick reached up to pull his Bluetooth headphones out of his ears.

‘Hi?’

‘Oh my God! Don’t do- why would you- I mean, why are you-’

Patrick pointed sheepishly at his open laptop on the coffee table, and David’s eyes followed his finger to a video playing on repeat of a man raising and lowering his leg slowly with a rolled-up towel under his knee. David’s eyes travelled down to Patrick’s own knee to find his brace gone and a rolled-up towel underneath it.

‘I thought you were dead!’ David screeched. Patrick smiled softly at him, his hands coming up to capture David’s face in the way that David found grounding.

‘David, I’m okay, I’m just being tortured by a man who wants me to do the impossible.’

David tried to huff out a laugh, but he was still reeling slightly from coming home to find his husband lying dead on the living room carpet. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and he tried to pull away from Patrick. Patrick wouldn’t let him go, one of his hands moved round to the back of David’s neck, pulling him down and pressing a kiss to his dry lips. David found himself lying half on top of Patrick, his hands curling round Patrick’s shoulders and holding on to him.

‘I’m okay.’ David felt Patrick whisper into the side of his neck as David took a deeper breath, inhaling the smell of home. They stayed that way for a while, David trying to compose himself while Patrick just held onto him, his hands running up and down David’s back in soothing motions. David eventually pulled back, and he could tell Patrick was scrutinising him for a moment as he sat on the floor, looking down at his husband.

‘Come on, lie down with me,’ Patrick said, pulling his headphones out, and reaching out to turn the laptop round, before tugging on the sleeve of David’s jumper. ‘You can do these with me and make me feel better about this medieval torture session that’s apparently supposed to help.’

‘Why do I feel like you’re trying to trick me into some kind of sports?’ David asked, lying down next to Patrick anyway. Patrick turned his head to look at David, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

‘I promise that there will be no running involved.’

They worked through Patrick’s exercises together, David grouching loudly, while Patrick gritted his teeth, his knee complaining the whole time.

‘Oh my God, my thighs are on fire!’ David exclaimed once they were done. ‘You duped me into sports,’ David continued as he tried to help Patrick back to his feet once he’d strapped himself back into his brace. Patrick was trying his best not to laugh as he sat back down on the sofa, lifting his leg up so that it was stretched out.

‘Are we sure this isn’t an effective torture device used by the Intelligence Service to get information out of us about our goats cheese suppliers, because I will give the names and addresses of _all_ of our suppliers to not have to do that again.’

‘You know I have to do that every day, right?’

‘Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, honey, I love you, but you are on your own.’ David bent to kiss Patrick, clutching at his own thighs in the process. ‘I’m going to go reward myself with a glass of wine. Do you need anything?’

‘Am I allowed to join you in that glass of wine?’ Patrick asked, one hand on the back of David’s neck so he couldn’t straighten back up, forcing him to kneel beside the sofa.

David seemed to consider this, frowning. ‘Not sure you deserve it after conning me into sports.’

‘Oh, well, do you need me to make it up to you?’ Patrick smiled wryly, leaning in for a second kiss.

‘Well, I definitely think you should apologise.’

Patrick pulled David towards him so that he was leaning back into the sofa cushions, forcing David to half climb onto the sofa beside him. His hands were looped round the back of David’s neck as he kissed him a third time. ‘I’m very sorry for conning you into a form of medieval torture to make me feel better about myself.’

‘I can’t tell if you’re being sincere.’

Patrick smirked, pulling David down further so he was nearly flush on top of Patrick, his legs moving up onto the sofa, but trying to keep them away from Patrick’s bad leg. Patrick started trailing kisses along David’s jawline, stopping by his ear.

‘I’m definitely being sincere,’ he whispered. David’s hand was dipping below the hem of Patrick’s t-shirt now, a wicked smile on his lips, revelling in the intimacy. The most they’d done in the last few weeks was exhausted snuggling, which had been nice, but David had definitely missed this.

David stopped, his hand resting on Patrick’s hipbone as his husband let out a hiss of discomfort.

‘You okay?’

‘I don’t want to kill the mood, but ow,’ Patrick admitted, looking sheepishly up at David.

David tried not to spring away from Patrick, but instead carefully rolled himself off the sofa and back onto the carpet while Patrick reached down for his knee, massaging the kneecap.

‘Maybe an ice pack, some painkillers and a glass of wine and we can try this again in twenty minutes?’ Patrick suggested awkwardly.

‘Okay, how about an ice pack, some painkillers, a glass of wine and we’ll see how we go,’ David suggested. Patrick looked very close to pouting, but there was also a furrow of pain on his face that David wished he could erase with kisses alone.

He leant in for one more kiss before pulling back reluctantly and heading for the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The best view comes after the hardest climb."

‘Patrick?’

‘In the kitchen.’

David had to refrain from rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he took his shoes off. He could hear the sounds of the tap running as well as the smell of something appealing wafting through to the hall.

When David wandered into the kitchen it was to find his husband stood on one leg, leaning against the kitchen counter, stirring something on the hob. There was one crutch abandoned next to the fridge, and the second one was nowhere in sight.

‘Look at you without crutches,’ David said, as he kissed Patrick on the cheek in greeting, sliding a hand round Patrick’s back to lend support. ‘Also, what is this deliciousness?’ David’s hand snaked out to try and dip a finger into the pan to taste, but Patrick slapped it away, momentarily looking like he was going to threaten him with a wooden spoon.

‘That is the bolognaise sauce for the lasagne that I said I would make about six weeks ago for us. I thought I would finally get around to making it now I can stand at a stove again for longer than five minutes,’ Patrick said as he put the lid back on the pan, turning it down to simmer, the wooden spoon keeping a gap to let the steam out.

David smiled, buoyed to see his husband so happy at the simple pleasures of making a meal again. ‘How did physio go today?’

‘Good. In fact, I have something to show you,’ Patrick said, trying to hide the smile on his face as he turned away from the stove and took a step back from David. He pulled his knee up to his chest, holding onto the counter with one hand, and David waited for the tell-tale click that the brace could go no further when Patrick reached 90 degrees, but there was no click.

‘Look at you being super flexible again,’ David said, giving a little shimmy of his shoulders in pleasure.

Patrick let his leg drop back to the floor as David leant in to kiss him properly. ‘I am very impressed. I thought you wouldn’t be allowed to change your brace again until you went back to fracture clinic?’

‘Physiotherapist emailed the consultant to ask if I could have full range of motion so they could continue to give me more cruel and unusual exercises.’

‘So, this is not you just deciding to change your brace again?’ David asked, raising his eyebrows. They’d had this conversation in the early days when Patrick had struggled to sit down with only a thirty-degree range of motion, making sitting at their low dining room table difficult. After a couple of days of sitting uncomfortably, he had discovered that he could change the range of motion on the brace himself. This had elicited an argument between the two of them, which had resolved in a compromise that Patrick would only change the angle when absolutely necessary.

‘No,’ Patrick said, sounding only vaguely convincing as he slipped his arms round David’s neck.

‘Hmm-mmm.’

‘No, honestly, the physio called me back about an hour ago to say that I could have full range and to try walking without crutches if I feel stable enough.’

‘Well this is definitely cause for celebration,’ David said, smiling.

‘Hence the lasagne. Also, I wanted to do something for you, since you’ve done so much for me the last few weeks. This is my way of saying thank you.’

David was shaking his head, looking into Patrick’s earnest gaze. ‘Not that the way to my heart isn’t through my stomach, but I’m more than happy to look after you. Thank yous, while very much appreciated, are not necessary. Even when you’re being cantankerous and arduous.’

Patrick’s eyebrow quirked in question. ‘Speak to your mom again today?’

‘She sends her love, and wondered if during your convalescence you’d managed to catch up with the Sunrise Bay reboot?’

Patrick frowned, as David ran his hand over Patrick's chest. ‘Ah, knew I’d missed out on something while I was recumbent on the chesterfield.’

David laughed at Patrick’s teasing, leaning in to kiss him again. ‘Can I do anything to help?’

Patrick looked round at the pot bubbling on the stove as if he was searching for something for David to do. ‘You can pour us both a glass of red wine, and then maybe sous chef for me by rescuing the lasagne sheets from the top cupboard? I didn’t want to get yelled at for standing on a chair to retrieve the box.’

David smirked. ‘Well I’m very glad I didn’t have to yell at you. Maybe we should get you a little step stool so you can reach the top?’

Patrick glared, whipping the tea towel from the oven door handle and trying to catch David with it as he moved out of reach. David had joked about Patrick not being able to reach the top cupboards in their kitchen when they’ve moved in, but even David had to use a chair to reach the very top shelf of their farmhouse kitchen cupboards. A fact that Patrick was taking full advantage of now, watching his husband’s ass wiggling in mid-air as he climbed up onto the chair.

* * *

‘Okay, that’s enough wine for you, we don’t want you falling down and dislocating your knee again.’ David chastised as both Patrick, Stevie and Alexis continued to laugh at the expense of David.

They were sat round the firepit in their backyard on their third bottle of wine of the evening. They were celebrating both the arrival of Alexis earlier that afternoon and the fact that Patrick had been discharged from fracture clinic the previous day and had spent his first full day back at work, now brace free.

David could tell that he was tired, though, as Patrick made a grab for the bottle of wine David was filling his own glass up with. He pulled it out of reach, handing it on to Alexis, who handed it on to Stevie, so by the time the wine made it back into Patrick’s hands the bottle was pretty much empty. Patrick pouted, and David took pity on him, reaching forward in his chair to hold Patrick’s nearly empty glass of wine steady that was still clutched in his hand, emptying half of David’s own glass into it. Some of it sloshed over the sides onto Patrick’s hand, and David tried to lick it off, getting a tongue to Patrick’s thumb before he pulled his hand back in disgust.

‘Ew, David,’ Alexis voiced from the other side of David as Patrick picked up the dishcloth he’d used to carry dinner out earlier and forgotten to take back to the kitchen, wiping his sticky hand on it.

David gave a smug smile, before sinking back into his chair and moving his socked foot so it rubbed against Patrick’s exposed ankle.

‘So, Patrick, now you’ve no longer part robot, what are your adventurous plans?’ Stevie asked, sitting cross-legged across the fire.

Patrick seemed to consider this for a moment, flexing his knee which was starting to stiffen up after so long in one position. ‘Well, my first aim is to walk up the stairs without my knee hurting.’

‘Wow. Big plans.’ Stevie was smirking into her wine.

‘I like to dream big,’ Patrick admitted.

‘It’s okay, we’ve resigned ourselves to the fact Patrick is now an old man,’ David said, reaching out to touch a hand to Patrick’s knee.

‘Still younger than you,’ Patrick mumbled under his breath.

David chose to ignore the comment. ‘Besides, he’s still being tortured by Gerhard.’

‘Gerhard?’ Stevie questioned.

‘I’m imagining like a cute frail old man with white hair and little black glasses who’s very nice and sweet.’ Alexis’ face wrinkled up as she gave a little shoulder shimmy under her jumper, thinking of old man Gerhard.

‘Actually, I’d probably say he’s late twenties at most. No glasses. Strawberry blonde hair, styled a bit like David’s except maybe curlier and fairly well built. And good looking.’

David’s head snapped round to stare at his husband. ‘You didn’t say he was hot!’ David exclaimed, slapping Patrick lightly on the arm.

‘You didn’t ask.’ Patrick said, trying to hide a smile. ‘Also, he’s torturing me. Flirting isn’t really on the table.’

‘Some people are into that,’ Stevie said, causing three pairs of eyes to turn on her. ‘What? They are.’

‘So how much longer are you and _Gerhard_ going to be meeting up?’ Alexis asked.

‘Ew, don’t say it like that,’ David protested.

‘They haven’t really put a timeframe on it. It’s more sort of how quickly I progress towards my goal.’

‘And what’s the goal?’ Stevie asked.

‘Being able to go hiking again.’

Stevie’s eyes flicked over to David who was stony faced as he played with his wedding band. She couldn’t quite tell beneath the layers of wine if this was annoyance, concern or a mixture of the two.

‘Also being able to play baseball. Turns out you use your knees quite a lot when running for home base.’

‘Who knew?’ Stevie said. She downed the last of her glass of wine then, before making her excuses and leaving for the night, despite the offers for her to sleep in one of the spare rooms.

David glanced across at Patrick who was gazing into the dying embers of the firepit with a glazed, half-asleep look on his face. David wasn't sure if he was contemplating how much further he had to go before he was able to get out hiking again, or whether he was just falling asleep with his eyes open. He was about to suggest they turn in for the night, when Alexis interrupted the quiet reverie that had fallen over them.

‘Well, some of us have been up for a really long time, so I’m going to bed,’ Alexis said, getting to her feet, bending to retrieve her shoes and almost wobbling over. She righted herself by leaning on David’s shoulder, whom she bent to kiss.

‘Night.’

If David seemed surprised, he didn’t say anything, just made a face.

She paused by Patrick, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek too. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

Patrick smiled, reaching up to grab Alexis’ hand, touched by the sincerity in his sister-in-law’s voice. ‘Night, Alexis.’

She smiled back at him, moving away, leaving her hand to linger in his for a moment.

* * *

‘Oh my god, what happened?’

Patrick kept limping into the living room, away from David who was stood at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t ignoring his husband, it was just he’d built up momentum after getting out the car and if he stopped now, he wasn’t sure he would get started again.

‘I went to the gym.’

Patrick lowered himself onto the sofa in increments, before he got so far and just had to let himself go, because it was too painful to stay held in a squat.

‘The gym!?’ David’s voice arched into high-pitched as he came around the couch to stand in front of Patrick. ‘Patrick, you’ve only been out of your brace for a couple of weeks.’

‘I know, but the physio said I should start introducing gentle exercise back in.’

David took a breath, looking up at the ceiling. ‘Why do I feel like your version of gentle exercise doesn’t match what a qualified professional's version of gentle exercise is?’

Patrick looked guilty, which only confirmed David’s suspicions. ‘I might have done too many reverse lunges.’

‘Reverse lunges? Why are you doing reverse lunges!?’ David was gesticulating wildly, a clear sign that he was upset. ‘Why would anyone willingly do reverse lunges? You say ow on a morning when you bend down to empty the dishwasher! Why the _fuck_ are you doing reverse lunges?’

Patrick sighed, looking up at David as he rubbed absentmindedly at his thighs. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a bit overdramatic about this?’

One of David’s eyebrows rose in question. ‘Can you get back off the sofa without my help?’

Patrick seemed to consider this for a moment, looking down at his legs like he was having a silent conversation with them, before mumbling an answer. ‘No.’

‘Then I am not being overdramatic.’

David left the room at that moment, and Patrick wanted to go after him to tell him he was fine, that he ached, but in a good way for once. If he was honest though the burn in his hamstrings and glutes was overshadowing the usual dull ache in his knee, so he wasn’t actually entirely sure how his knee was faring. Patrick could hear the banging of boxes coming from the utility room and Patrick heaved out a breath, preparing to pull himself back to his feet again. Before he’d had a chance to get any further than psyching himself up, David had reappeared. In one hand he had a bottle of water which he handed over, and in the other he was holding a dusty looking foam roller which he dropped at Patrick’s feet.

‘Okay, you’re going to use that and I’m going to go run you a bath and put in some of those new Epsom bath salts that we got in the other day.’

A fond smile crept onto Patrick’s face as he looked up from the foam roller into the face of his fairly furious looking husband. ‘I love you.’

‘Uh huh.’ David turned to leave.

‘David?’

David stopped at the door out of the room, looking back at his husband in fond annoyance. ‘What?’

‘Genuinely might need help off the sofa.’

David rolled his eyes as he came back over to the couch, grabbing Patrick’s forearm and bracing himself to pull Patrick to his feet. ‘I don’t know how you survived the first thirty years of your life without me.’

Patrick rolled to his feet with the momentum, stumbling forward a couple of steps, so that he ended up pressed up against David. ‘Me neither.’

David sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he tried very hard not to smile, still trying to exude annoyance at his ridiculous husband and the high standards he held himself to, when nobody else did.

* * *

‘Now, are you sure about this?’

David was looking over the roof of the car at Patrick who was already shouldering his rucksack for the hike.

‘David, I don’t want one of my favourite places to be tainted by what happened to me last time I was here. I want to do this with you.’

David chewed on the bottom of his lip for a moment before acquiescing as he took his own rucksack from Patrick. Patrick had been discharged from physio two weeks previously, and this had been one of the first things he’d wanted to do now that he’d managed to get his fitness back up again. David had reluctantly agreed, and Patrick had stuck to his promise of not hiking again on his own, so a couple of weeks later they’d managed to find a day off together and packed a picnic.

David knew when they got to the place on the trail where it happened, because Patrick faltered slightly before he kept going. David stopped, looking down at the floor of the trail somehow expecting to see a huge arrow pointing to a rock or a hole in the ground that had caused Patrick months of pain and rehabilitation, but there was nothing.

Patrick had come to a halt further up the trail, looking back. ‘David?’

‘This is it, right? This is where it happened.’

There was a brief flash of uncertainty passed over Patrick’s face before he nodded. He was rooted to the spot now, looking like he was scared to come back down the trail towards David.

‘I don’t know what I was expecting, I just feel like there should be something more than just, this.’ David waved his arms expansively, taking in the whole trail, including the sun shining through the turning leaves, the birds singing distantly and his husband stood stock still.

‘I think you’ve painted a picture in your head of that day being more dramatic than it was,’ Patrick said, trying to lighten the mood.

David frowned. ‘I picked my husband up in a carpark and took him to the ER after he’d hiked five kilometres back down the side of a mountain after dislocating his knee. It was pretty fucking dramatic.’

Patrick took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he carefully walked back down the trail towards David.

‘You’re right. It was awful. And the last few months haven’t been great for either of us. But I survived it. _We_ survived it.’ Patrick took David’s hand in his, squeezing tightly, but David had other ideas. He was wrapping his arms around Patrick, pulling him in for a hug. They stood for a moment in the middle of the trail, just holding each other, Patrick’s eyes slipped closed as he tried to take in every detail of the moment, the feeling of David’s sweater against his chin, David’s hands rubbing at his back, and the smell of David’s cologne that invoked in him a feeling of being safe and loved. He tried to replace his last memory of this exact spot with what was happening now, replacing pain with a warm feeling of love that surrounded him.

‘One more minute,’ Patrick whispered, hugging David tighter when he moved to pull away. David didn’t say anything, just kept holding on.

They reached the lookout point half an hour later, David dropping his rucksack on the floor almost immediately as they both took in the view. 

‘Well, we made it to the top without you injuring yourself, so I’m saying that’s a win.’

‘We need to make it back down again too,’ Patrick said. It was meant to come out as a joke, but both of them felt the moment that the mood shifted slightly. Patrick turned away, pulling his rucksack off his back and pulling a blanket out from inside. He threw it out on the ground and carefully sat down, patting the ground next to him, encouraging David to join him.

He pulled out cheese and crackers and a bottle of zhampagne followed by two plastic glasses.

‘Are you going to propose again?’ David asked, taking both plastic glasses from Patrick so he could open the bottle.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m already married to a pretty wonderful man whom I love very much, and I don’t want us to become a thruple.’

‘Hmm, pity,’ David commented, preening at Patrick’s compliment too.

‘Thank you for agreeing to come on this hike with me,’ Patrick said sometime later, as they sat staring out at the view, legs crossed in front of them and the remains of the cheese and crackers between them. ‘I’m glad we did this.’

David smiled, turning to look at Patrick in profile. ‘I still think it’s a lot of effort for a picnic.’

* * *

There are very few physical reminders of the last day Patrick went hiking on his own. When it gets cold, his knee gets a bit stiffer. When he walks downstairs his knee sometimes clicks, usually first thing on a morning. Patrick has been told that he’d probably have arthritis later on in life, and may eventually need a knee replacement. He’d also been told he’d be more susceptible to dislocating it again, so he keeps doing ten minutes of physio when he gets up in the mornings, before bringing David a cup of coffee in bed and it just becomes part of his daily routine.

But there’s one thing that David notices more than Patrick that’s a reminder of that day.

When Patrick brushes his teeth he still stands on one leg, flamingo-ing as he lets his electric toothbrush do the hard work. It’s like he’s forgotten that he can comfortably stand on two feet for longer than two minutes. Some days he catches himself and puts his foot back down, or he rests it against his other foot.

On the days when David joins him in the bathroom to brush his own teeth, he hip checks him as a reminder to stand on both feet. Patrick just leans against David instead, continuing to stand on one leg.


End file.
